The Exchange Affair
by SheBelievedSheCouldSoSheDid
Summary: When Molly gets a French exchange student who goes by the name of Sherlock Holmes, both her and her best friend John are excited to meet the 17 year old stranger. But how do the three weeks that Sherlock spends in England change both his life and his new friends' lives? Will there be light at the end of the tunnel for the teenagers?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a little introduction to the main story where Molly and John talk about Sherlock Holmes and have a bit of fun while they are at it ;) You will be meeting Sherlock in chapter 2 ;)**

(Thu 15:15)

You won't believe the news that I have just received- MH

(Thu 23:46)

What? –JW

(Fri 9:02)

Justgot letter from school about new exchange program –MH

(Fri 10:34)

Ah, good news then? :) –JW

(Fri 13: 16)

Yes! Getting a French exchange student called Sherlock Holmes –MH

(Fri 13: 20)

Sherlock Holmes? -JW

(Fri 13:21)

Posh name if I've ever heard one. -JW

(Fri 13:23)

Yeah he used to live in England apparently but moved over to france when he was 4 and been there ever since. Speaks fluent French, Russian, Farsi, English, Greek, Spanish and Italian. -MH

(Fri 13:24)

His name on the form is William but he prefers to be called Sherlock -MH

(Fri 13:27)

Christ... so it's not just the name that's a mouthful -JW

(Fri 13:28)

He's written to you then? -JW

(Fri 13:30)

HAHA. Yes, there was a letter from him that came with the letter from school. I need you to help me reply to him.- MH

(Fri 16:55)

Me? Really, Molls? -JW

(Fri 20:13)

Yeah. U know about the male kind better than I do ;) -MH

(Fri 23:19)

True, but he sounds... we probably wouldn't have much more in common than you do him -JW

(Fri 23:20)

I guess I could lend a hand, though. Seems interesting enough- JW

(Sat 10:29)

Nah. Remember opposites attract ;) –MH

(Sun 02:44)

... are you trying to matchmake me now?- JW

(Sun 11:34)

Yes, I need to find you someone before the end of school. Thanks really need the help. He will be arriving at Heathrow on the 29th can u give me a lift to the airport? -MH

(Sun 11: 36)

Sure, I can make it and stop trying to get me a girlfriend/boyfriend. I don't need one. Plus you don't need to be wasting your time over the next year and a bit finding me a lover. -JW

(Sun 11:37)

Thanks :) and it wouldn't be a waste of time. -MH

(Sun 11:39)

Appreciate it, Molls. But what makes you think your swotty exchange student from France would like me?- JW

(Sun 11:40)

Bit of a stretch, even you have to admit.- JW

(Sun 11:43)

Well I am bored. I need something to do and you haven't had a girlfriend or boyfriend for ages now. Thought u could do with a little bit of help ;) -MH

(Sun 11:45)

So I'm literally your side project? -JW

(Mon 7:02)

Yes. -MH

(Mon 11:14)

Don't need help, Mol -JW

(Mon 11:15)

Feeling really valued as a friend right now.- JW

(Mon 12:00)

Good. -MH

[a few weeks later]

(Wed 13:56)

Fancy meeting up later? -MH

(Wed 14:00)

We could go to a club? -MH

(Wed 14:34)

Sure- JW

(Wed 14:50)

One that isn't too loud -MH

(Wed 15:00)

And you'll show me the recent letters from Sherlock Holmes? Sure -JW

(Wed 15:04)

Yeah, course -MH

(Wed 15:05)

He seems a little bit... unusual though -MH

(Wed 15:17)

And this is the guy you've chose for me? Truly flattered ;) And you do realise that all clubs are loud. That's the main reason that they exist -JW

(Wed 15:18)

Yes... well... u know I don't like a sensory overload. Well u like everyone... despite their weirdness -MH

(Wed 15:20)

I know. Doesnt have to be a club. You think too highly of me, Molls. Taking it as a compliment.- JW

(Wed 15:22)

But u like going to clubs -MH

(Wed 15:23)

Good because that is exactly how it was meant to be received -MH

(Wed 15:24)

I could do with a quiet night in from time to time. -JW

(Wed 15:24)

: ) -JW

(Wed 15:27)

Film round mine, then? U can stay the night? Pick up posh boy from the airport in the morning? -MH

(Wed 15:28)

Sure. Get the new Hobbit film, won't you? Been dying to see it for ages. -JW

(Wed 15:30)

Yes anything for u, Watson -MH

(Wed 15:31)

That's my girl ;) -JW

(Wed 15:32)

What time do you want me round?- JW

(Wed 15: 34)

6 ok? -MH

(Wed 15:36)

6 is good. - JW

(Wed 15:39)

Could provide the popcorn? - JW

(Wed 15:41)

U like to spoil me, don't u ;) - MH

(Wed 15:45)

Makes this Sherlock your competition then, doesn't it? -JW

(Wed 15:46)

Watch yourself, Hooper :P - JW

(Wed 16:25)

;) Get ur arse round here ASAP then so that I can eat all that yummy popcorn that you have bought for me. -MH

(Wed 16:29)

Oi! You're supposed to leave some for me, u know? ;) -JW

(Wed 16:33)

Any chance there's a free meal involved? ;) - JW

(Wed 16:33)

Well u wanna look good for posh French boy ;) -MH

(Wed 16:35)

Only if ur good. -MH

(Wed 16:37)

U know me. Always good. -JW

(Wed 16:38)

What's the point? I will be overshadowed by the brilliance that is Molly Hooper :) French boy won't even give me a second glance. - JW

(Wed 16:39)

Yeah. When you're not hogging the duvet. - MH

(Wed 16:40)

That's not my fault. The duvet just creeps up to me. It likes me. -JW

(Wed 16:43)

Nah... as much as I would like a romantic adventure don't think this guy is for me (unless he looks like a Greek god or an Abercrombie and Fitch model.) Yeah right like all the girls that follow u around school ;) -MH

(Wed 16:44)

The duvet is welcome. They aren't. Not really - JW

(Wed 16:45)

Haven't you got a pic yet? -JW

(Wed 16:47)

Nope says he doesn't do photos cus they are a waste of his time? -MH

(Wed 16:49)

Shame. But you never know, do you Molls? -JW

(Wed 16:50)

This could be your romantic escapade. - JW

(Wed 16:51)

Yeah... maybe... if ur not interested I might be incline to try and flirt with him ;) -MH

(Wed 16:53)

I'm not... at least I don't _think_ so. You know I've been questioning it. Just hoping for the right girl, I suppose. - JW

(Wed 16:54)

Don't wanna get my hopes up thou. Not after Jimmy -MH

(Wed 16:54)

Yeah she might come along (hopefully before I turn 90) -MH

(Wed 16:55)

Jimmy was a dick... Sherlock sounds... -JW

(Wed 16:55)

Better? - JW

(Wed 16:57)

And how have u been making sure that u aren't gay? You haven't said much about it since the whole Harry situation happened. -MH

(Wed 16:57)

Yeah well I don't have a good track record when it comes to guys -MH

(Wed 16:59)

Shut up -JW

(Wed 17:00)

;) -MH

(Wed 17:04)

I dunno... I think u just know, u know? For now, that is what it will stay... you're the one trying to push French exchange students on my lap -JW

(Wed 17:05)

Mmmm so u want him on ur lap? ;) -MH

(Wed 17:07)

Retracting my offer of popcorn. -JW

(Wed 17:08)

I'll just eat it all myself - JW

(Wed 17:10)

Well if it's that toffee crap then I really don't mind missing out -MH

(Wed 17:11)

:( I like toffee... -JW

(Wed 17:13)

Well I don't -MH

(Wed 17:15)

You have deeply wounded me, Molls. -JW

(Wed 17:15)

Shall never recover. -JW

(Wed 17:15)

On the verge of dying. - JW

(Wed 17:17)

Such ashame... I had bought you a really nice birthday present for you. I will have to give it to Sherlock now as a welcome to England gift because my best friend has gone and died on me -MH

(Wed 17:18)

You stabbed me with a dagger to the heart -JW

(Wed 17:19)

Toffee flavored dagger -JW

(Wed 17:20)

I think I prefer the posh-french-boy-on-your-lap dagger. At least then it would be a happy ending -MH

(Wed 17:22)

Dream on, girl. - JW

(Wed 17:22)

... isnt he english? -JW

(Wed 17:23)

Well he's a french citizen -MH

(Wed 17:25)

If I can get u two together then I will have not only one gay best friend but two. its like a dream come true -MH

(Wed 17:26)

I know what your secret side project is now... Creating an army of gay best friends. - JW

(Wed 17:26)

Keep dreaming, Molls. - JW

(Wed 17:30)

Yeah... I could have a reality TV show, the title being "creating an army of gay best friends" -MH

(Wed 17: 32)

When u take over the world, that is -JW

(Wed 17:33)

I could also write a book and call it "how I created an army of gay best friends" -MH

(Wed 17:34)

Helping mental women all over the world... I can picture your legacy now... - JW

(Wed 17:35)

U would be world famous, U and Sherlock that is ;) -MH

(Wed 17: 35)

We haven't even met the guy yet -JW

(Wed 17:37)

It could be three weeks of rain, sex and post coital bliss for you. -MH

(Wed 17:38)

You mean rain, minus the sex, minus the post coital bliss. - JW

(Wed 17:39)

;) -MH

(Wed 17:40)

I'm not going to jump on his bones as soon as he gets off the plane. - JW

(Wed 17:42)

How do u know that? Turned into a psychic over night? -MH

(Wed 17:43)

Think that would more apply to you - JW

(Wed 17:43)

Hope u wouldn't jump on his bones. That would be painful :p -MH

(Wed 17:50)

Eyes rolling so hard now I think they may be stuck behind my sockets. -JW

(Wed 17:51)

Turn me blind, wont you - JW

(Wed 18:02)

Anyway, I'm almost at the door. - JW

(Wed 18:05)

Good. Hurry up and get ur arse in here -MH

(Wed 18:07)

Eager for some toffee now aren't you -JW

(Wed 18:08)

Do you regret your words then -JW

(Wed 18:10)

Nope. I only need you so that u can help me with my homework later and drive me to the airport in the morning -MH

(Wed 18:11)

Ouch!- JW

(Wed 18:14)

Is that why you won't ANSWER YOUR DOORBELL? -JW

(Wed 18:14)

Nope. Upstairs in my room. It takes a long time to get down all the bloody stairs- MH

(Wed 18:14)

It's cold out for a mortally wounded man - JW

(Wed 18:14)

The toffee won't make it through the night -JW

(Wed 18:15)

Stop harassing me. I only have short legs- MH

(Wed 18:15)

I won't have legs anymore if you don't hurry -JW

(Wed 18:15)

Molly, I am melting in the rain. -JW

(Wed 18:15)

Send help! -JW

(Wed 18:15)

ASAP -JW

(Wed 18:15)

Wait! -MH

(Wed 18:16)

Or else... -MH

(Wed 18:16)

Mollyyyyyyy! -JW

(Wed 18: 16)

Or else what? -JW

(Wed 18:16)

Can't feel my legs -JW

(Wed 18:17)

Im meltinggggggg -JW

(Wed 18:17)

Ur not. -MH

(Wed 18:17)

Am -JW

(Wed 18:18)

I promise you that u r not melting (unless you are now a snowman) - MH

(Wed 18:18)

Are these rain drops or are these tears I can't tell anymore -JW

(Wed 18:18)

I might be that witch from the wizard of oz -JW

(Wed 18:19)

This is John Watson. Keeping log for day 60000000, still waiting for Molly Hooper. -JW

(Wed 18:19)

Rations are low. Toffee mysteriously disappearing. - JW

(Wed 18:19)

Haha very funny -MH

(Wed 18:19)

Melting in the rain. -JW

(Wed 18:19)

Ur driving me mad! - MH

(Wed 18:20)

Will this ever end? -JW

"Can u please stop texting me or I will actually kill you by drowning you in a pool filled with toffee popcorn" Molly shouted as she opened the door to her (gay) best mate.

**I have to give a big thanks you to my co-author and beta who I met on Omegle and has been an absolute dream to work with! (You know who you are ;))**


	2. Chapter 2

_"Can u please stop texting me or I will actually kill you by drowning you in a pool filled with toffee popcorn" Molly shouted as she opened the door to her (gay) best mate._

John smirks, pocketing his phone, as he holds a bag of popcorn to himself. He is drenched, blond hair dark and slick against his face, "About time."

"You look like one of those models on the TV who stand out in the rain on a doorstep looking really cute just waiting for your girlfriend." she muttered as she grabbed the popcorn and began to eat her way through the bag.

"Should I be flattered?" John whines as his popcorn is stolen, "You said you didn't like toffee!"

She walked through the living room where a large 50 inch TV was sitting with The Hobbit menu on the screen and the music blasting through the speakers. "Of course you should be. Except you wouldn't be waiting on your girlfriend's doorstep, would you?" she smirked at him before she plonked herself onto the sofa. "I'm hungry!"

John sneers at her, rolling his eyes, before pouting now, throwing himself onto the sofa as well. "But I was rationing it!' he protests, distracted by the movie menu now.

She placed her feet on John's lap and began to play the movie. "You just avoided my mention of your sexuality. You never do that."

John shrugs, "Dunno." he avoids her question, turning his eyes onto the screen as he reaches for the popcorn, "Hush, the movie has started."

"I know that you wanna watch this movie desperately but you know, if anything's wrong, you can talk to me. After the movie, before the movie starts, whenever." She said placing her hand on his thigh as she spoke.

John glances over at her once with a flicker of his blue eyes and he nods, "We'll talk after the movie." his voice is subdued but he turns back to the television, pretending to be preoccupied.

She let the movie play without interrupting her friend, only talking when she asked him what pizza he wanted so that she could order them some food. The pizza arrived half way through the movie and they silently eat it while still watching the film.

John chews, uncomfortable now due to the unspoken silence between Molly and himself, but the movie is a good and he finds himself absorbed in watching it, other thoughts pushed away.

Once the movie ends, Molly lets the movie's soundtrack play on but lowers the volume so that she can talk to John. "You can't get away from this conversation, you know. No matter how hard you try, I will talk to you about this cause you seem sad most of the time, John."

"It's not..." John sighs, "I'm not... _sad_. Why would I be?" He averts his gaze, "It was a good movie."

"I'm not talking about the movie and you know it." Molly said sternly, losing most of her patience with her supposed best friend. "You need to talk to someone about this. You don't have to talk right this second but in a few days you need to let all this crap out. You don't even have to talk to me, just someone."

John sighs, looking down now, at his feet, which he draws to his chest, now that Molly has sat up. "I guess... you know Harry came out earlier this year, right?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing people talked about for weeks."

"Yeah... well..." John sighs, "My parents didn't really... react well to that."

"That's only cus your parents listen to all that religious... stuff."

"Yeah... that..." John licks his lips, "They did... kick her out, and disown her..."

"Where is she staying at the moment?" Molly asked, moving closer to John.

"With her girlfriend, Clara?" John's eyes flicker to hers, they are grateful, "Well and I... it's easier to... to say I'm not gay." He twists his hands together nervously.

"Well at least she has somewhere to stay..." Molly stated, taking a breath before continuing. "I can't say that I understand what you are going through but I know it's now easy to let people know who you really are. Just try and find out who you are yourself. Spend some time getting to know who you are and then, only then, should you even _start_ to consider telling your parents."

"And get what? A beating, an exorcism, kicked out?" John shakes his head, "It's not... _that_ easy." He bites his lip. This was precisely why he had not felt about talking about this, "I don't... I'm not even sure myself yet. And this is... easier."

"I don't think your parents would go that far." Molly admitted, looking John straight in the eye. "At the moment they are just angry and hurt because their daughter isn't who they thought she was."

"And what if they find out their son isn't, either?" John looks away sharply, 'Molls... I want you to drop it."

Molly tried to stay calm, focusing on her breathing so that she could keep a calm frame of mind on the whole subject. For years Molly had lied to herself and her family about who she was instead opting to be the shy, meek child when really she should have shown others who she really was. Then John came along and made her realise that no matter how she acted she would always have friends. That's why he was a good friend and that's exactly what she wanted to be to him in a time when he needed her most.

"I know this isn't easy, admitting all this to me but I wanna help so I need to understand what is going on in that head of yours first" Molly said.

"I know you do." His hand finds hers, as if he is still the child she met, when he first transferred over, when he reached out to her and said, smiling_, Hello, I'm John, what's your name?_, as if they were still those children, but now facing issues too large for them to wrap their minds around. "I don't think... I mean. I 've never looked at a boy twice... just... the girls don't attract me. I've always thought that meant something was wrong, until Harry came out. They said they... I mean... people who were gay were monsters. I _knew_ Harry wasn't... I _know_ she isn't."

She squeezed his hand as he spoke, trying to show him that she was there for him no matter what. "That's fine, totally fine. You are allowed to love whoever you want to love, no matter what others around you say. Your parents are just old fashioned. They don't understand that every day the world around them is changing and because they aren't changing with the times, one day they will find themselves alone with no one around them."

John feels his cheeks growing hot, tears splash down onto his lap. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. "No one wants that for their parents..." he takes in ragged breath, "I don't know... I think... when the time comes I'll just... cross the bridge when I get to it."

She stands up and grabs a box of tissues that are sitting on the coffee table. She offers them to John before she speaks. "I know. I know. Your parents may just be in shock at the moment and in a few weeks they will call your sister back and everything will be ok. Of course you should take your time with everything. I just don't want you to lose out on having all the experiences that you should have: gay or straight experiences!"

John cracks a smile at that, dabbing at his eyes discreetly. "Of course you wouldn't. You're my matchmaker, after all."

"Yeah and I bet that _Sherlock Holmes_ could be your first experiment." she smirks at him before leaning into John's body, placing her head in his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.

John puts his arms around her as well, almost automatically, "You're going to be wrong..." he hums, "No way is a French swot going to want anything to do with me."

"Let's see dear Watson, let's see."

Molly falls asleep, wrapped around each other on the sofa.

John spends the night, sleeping soundly, held by his best friend. It's not until morning light comes, and he pries his eyes open, crusted over by the remains of tears as he remembers his problems. He gently nudges Molly, "Molls..."

Molly slept quite well, although the first thought that entered her mind when she was suddenly woken up was about a pain in her neck. "Mmmmm..."

John feels the crick in his neck too, but there are other thoughts on his mind, "We've got to pick up Mr Frenchy soon." he reminds, yawning himself as he pulls away.

"Do we have time for breakfast? I think we might have some frogs' legs in the fridge." she smiled at John whilst she got up off the sofa and moved towards the kitchen. "You might want to change. Your spare clothes are still in the last drawer of my chest of drawers if you need them."

John nods, "I'll go... better get that microwaved." he smiles at her, before heading off to Molly's room, grabbing his clothes, and marching into the bathroom. He looked a mess, and he decided to put in a little effort, for this Sherlock Holmes. Not for himself, of course, oh no, he could hardly afford to show up Molly.

Molly microwaved the food, doing her hair at the same time deciding to use the bathroom after John has finished in there. She grabbed a spoon and started to eat the porridge that had just come out of the microwave. "Food's ready if you want any."

John appeared, looking much more refreshed, sat down beside Molly, picking up a spoon and helping himself to Molly's bowl of porridge. "Ta." he says lowly, "So, excited to meet your future boyfriend?"

"Oh, yeah? _My_ future boyfriend? The way you have dressed suggests that I might have competition on that front!" Molly said, eating another spoon of porridge.

John flushes, if only a little. "It's nothing special!" He defends. "I'm capable of cleaning up my act, Hooper." He bops her nose, "Some of us don't have amazing good looks and sparkling personality to carry us, some of us have to work with what we've got."

"Haha, you blushed and you never clean your act up for me. Don't I ever get to see you like this, all dashing and charming" She headed towards the door, picking up the keys to her dad's car as she went.

"You're different!" John protests, "I am no blushing! This is my natural colour!" He follows after her, closing the door behind him.

"How am _I_ different? And yes you are blushing. A _very_ dark red color!" Molly hinted, staring at John as he blushed further.

"Maybe I got sun burnt!" John says defensively, hands going to cup his cheeks, "You're my best friend. Of course you're different."

"Sun burnt! In this weather! You have been in my house since 6 o'clock yesterday. Amazingly the sun can't penetrate through bricks and glass!" Molly said as she opened the car door and threw the keys to John before getting into the passenger's side of the car.

"Beware, the dangers of the sun." John says darkly, now drawing his hood up to hide his face, "I nearly melted yesterday! This could be a side effect!" He takes the keys and climbs into the driver's seat, inserting them in, and starting the engine.

"I'm sure that yesterday, before you came into my house and soaked the carpet; you nearly melted due to the _rain_ not the sun! Now hurry up and get me to the airport before French boy gets bored waiting around for us to arrive."

"He can speak English, it's not like he'd get lost." John says sulkily, getting on the road, "You don't know that for sure... I nearly died out there!"

"Mmmm I suppose." Molly muttered, putting on her sunglasses that lay on the dashboard as the sun was finally starting to come out after all the rain the previous day. "Yeah, that's a little bit of an exaggeration."

"No it isn't... look the sun is out to get me again." John pouts at her, before focusing on the road.

" It's the sun, John, not a Darlek out to kill you. Just put on some sun screen and you will be fine." She starts to relax into the car seat, letting the sun hit her skin through the car windows. "Can we open a window? It's getting a little bit warm in here."

"Can't stand my hotness?" John mutters as he helps her roll down a window, chuckling.

"Yeah it's just overwhelming." she laughed.

John nods, "Knew it." he says, pretending to be smug, as he continues to drive, "Sooooooo... what do you think this Sherlock is going to be like?"

"I don't know. I don't meet many French boys on the streets of London. Although I suspect that that often happens to you. Especially in clubs." she said winking at him when she managed to catch his eye.

John laughed, shaking his head, "You know I barely remember my club experiences, and you've been with me most of the time. Who's the one exaggerating now?"

Molly looks at John seriously before raising her eyebrows at her best friend, "Were you really that drunk that you can't remember what happened? Three of the times that we have been to a club, at least one boy each time checks you out. You end up talking to him and then you disappear for 5 minutes. You can't tell me that not one of those boys was French?" Molly finished winking at John before rummaging through her bag to find a magazine to read.

"Just because they can speak French doesn't mean they _are_ French." John complains, "And I don't remember any of it, not really. Certainly not a name quite like Sherlock."

Not taking her eyes of the magazine for a minute Molly replies, "Mmmm I suppose that's true...and I agree with the Sherlock name thingy. It sounds more English than French. Like old English, it's defiantly not a modern English name though."

"True..." John muses, "Wonder how high his mother was when she first saw him, hmm?" He parks the car, properly in a lot, checking the rear-view mirror as he does.

"She probably looked at him and thought that she should give him revenge for all the pain that she had just been through during his birth... That's probably not true though cus his real name is actually William and that's a pretty normal name to give a child." As the car pulls into the car park, Molly gets out of the car, slamming the door shut as she begins to head towards the main entrance of the airport.

"I have no idea. Maybe he went through a weird phase when he was younger and forced his parents to change his name. Would make sense, especially after some of the stuff he said in the letters. He seems to be a right character." Molly replied, entering the famous airport and looking around to find the arrivals board, "No I haven't had a look to see if his plane is delayed. Didn't have enough time cus of how late we woke up. If his plane is delayed then we can have a look round. See if there is anywhere to get a nice cuppa tea for you, dear Watson. I know what you're like without your morning tea."

John waggles his eyebrows, "Would you pay for it?" he teases, nudging her, and then laughing, "Let's go get me a cuppa, it's still early... don't you want anything?"

"Dream on Watson, Dream on." Molly muttered, looking in her handbag to see if she had picked up her purse. "Yeah, I will see if they have anything I fancy. Porridge fills me up quite a bit so I don't think I will have much."

"Why not a cuppa?" John pouts, "First toffee, now this? Molly Hooper, are your taste buds functioning?"

"You know I'm not a tea person. I much prefer a lovely strong cup of coffee to keep my brain going through the long days that one has to go through when they are studying for their A levels. Yes, my taste buds are perfectly fine thank you very much!" Molly said pouting back at John like a kid who didn't get what she wanted when she went to the sweet shop.

"Tea works for me..." John pouts as well, as they walk into a shop, "I doubt so... How are you going to feed this Sherlock? He'll die of food poisoning before the first week's out."

Molly looked around the shop spotting a free table in the corner that they could sit and talk at for a few minutes before Sherlock's flight arrived. She quickly made her way to the table before anyone else could get there, "Get me a skinny cappuccino and some custard creams. You're paying." She shouted, sitting down at the table, pulling her half-read magazine out of her bag.

"Wait a minute .Did you just call me a bad cook John Hamish Watson?"

"Oi!" John whines, "That's not fair!" Regardless, he pays for the order, sulkily, "I'm telling you the truth."

"Yes it is fair, I paid for the pizza last night... and before you say that you bought the popcorn, remind me. How much does popcorn actually cost?" Molly replied taking the cappuccino from John as he makes his way back to the table.

"A lot." John says defiantly, sitting down to sip his tea, "Not monetary cost, even though that's already _huge_. But it took time, and effort, and devotion. Plus I had to shield it in the rain. And ration it. That Popcorn, was invaluable."

"Invaluable my arse, John Watson. Popcorn costs, what, about £1-£3? That pizza cost me over £10 and I had to supply drinks_ and_ the movie." Molly sighed taking a sip of her cappuccino before continuing the lecture. "I suppose you did protect it from the rain but rationing it? You do realise that food is meant to be eaten, not treated like we're all back in the 1940's."

John rolls his eyes at her, leaning back in his chair, "But I was stuck outside a house...with no food or water... for days..." He gives her puppy dog eyes, "Rationing was important... the way the popcorn tasted... it was priceless."

"Haha, very funny Watson. Maybe you should become an actor when you're older? You seem to be doing a good job of making me feel bad just because I have little legs that don't let me run down two flights of stairs quick enough for your royal highness here!" Molly responded, taking the spoon out of the cup, sucking on it so that she could remove all the froth from her drink whilst giving John a hard look as she did so.

"It's a career option." John rewards with a lazy shrug, unfazed, sipping his tea, "To be fair, I was waiting for centuries down there."

Molly nearly choked on her drink. She knew that John was one for exaggerating but that was a little bit over the top. "Centuries!? You waited, like, 10 minutes max. Look I can even prove it to you." She takes out her phone, going onto her messages and then onto John, showing him that only 8 minutes had passed between the time that he had sent her the first message and her final text that night.

John looked her straight in the eye as he drained his tea, "Every minute feels like a century waiting for you, Molls."

Molly looked at him the same way that John was. "Sometimes you are really sweet, you know that?"

John chuckled, picking down his tea cup, "Sometimes, she says."

"Yeah... well... you know I don't mean it in a bad way. It's just sometimes you go all serious on me and I know that you're going through a tough time at the moment but sometimes a worry about you cus you go all moody and you don't talk to me for days. And sometimes... sometimes I worry that you won't come back to me... that you won't be all nice and sweet and caring... like the John I know and love." Molly says, trying to keep her emotions under control as they are in a public place about to meet a guy that she would have to entertain for the next three weeks.

John glances at her curiously, before clearing his throat, his face softening. "I'm sorry for being such a prick..." He sighs. "It's just... difficult. It seems... that things keep getting harder, and nothing is right anymore..." He shakes his head. "But you shouldn't worry about it, or me. Come on, chin up. You have a French boy to impress. Don't preoccupy yourself with me."

"Wait a minute. I haven't finished my biscuits and we haven't finished with our little heart to heart." She tries to pull John back down as he starts to leave the coffee but unfortunately she doesn't get her own way. In the end she grabs her biscuits and carries them with her so that she can save them for later.

"Don't need a heart to heart, Molly. Everything's fine. Anyway we spoke about most of it last night." He says breezily, as he makes his way to the departure gate. "Focus on your new French love interest, stop wasting precious time on me."

"Ok, if you insist. But seriously, can we stop on the whole French love interest business. I don't think he's my type anyway." Molly smoothly replied, trying to find out where they were supposed to find Sherlock.

"You never know until you see him." He insists, as he peers at the board, trying to make sense of the thing. "He'll come out at belt four."

"Well from his letters he just seems weird. I don't think I can date someone that I don't get on with." Molly mentions, as she links her arm in his and drags him to gate 4. "Come on then Watson. We need to find this French boy."

"You get on with him, said so yourself." John objects, allowing her to drag him along, "How will we know..? We don't even have a picture!"

"I said that I get along with him purely in a scholarly way. He has a very interesting mind and he is very clever, probably an absolute genius." Molly said continuing to drag John along as they carried on travelling to gate 4. "He said he will be wearing a black suit with a purple shirt underneath. He had black curly hair and will be carrying 3 chemistry textbooks and an iPhone. If we still can't find him, I have his mobile number so we can simply call him. If he doesn't reply then he hasn't landed yet because he said he will turn on his phone as soon as he lands."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" John wonders, before stopping. "Hang on, who wears a suit?! And chemistry textbooks?" He repeats in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I have thought this through. I asked him a few weeks ago about how we should spot him and he suggested all of the things that I mentioned. I just asked him for his phone number as well in case of an emergency and I think that we will need it over the next few weeks. Remember what I _just_ told you about him, like five minutes ago? He's scholarly. Of cause he's carrying chemistry books." Molly said looking at John like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Although, I am not quite sure what the whole thing with the suit is about? Perhaps he has some kind of weird fetish."

John raises his eyebrow, a little unsettled now. "Right... Obviously... I don't see anyone wearing a suit, or carrying a ton of books..." He peers at the gate, "Might want to give that number a ring."

"Don't look at me like that, Mister!" Molly complained, poking John's arm as revenge. "We've only been here for a few minutes. We need to give him time to get off the flight, retrieve his bag and get through customs and you know how long that takes. I'm only going to ring that number when the last people walk through that door or we have been standing here for 20 minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" John groans, looking crestfallen. "Maybe the super genius can be super efficient, too. Here's to hoping... Twenty minutes? Really?"

"Yes, twenty minutes. We need to give him some time to relax. We can't just barge into his life straight away. The time will fly by, especially if we are having fun."

John quirked an eyebrow. "You assume we're having fun?" He teased. "I need another cuppa... I as fighting the urge to fall asleep...I thought the whole point of him coming was so we could barge into his life."

"Yes of course we're having fun. You always have fun when you're around me." Molly joked, looking around to see if there was a coffee shop in the area. "I don't want him to hate us the second he meets us. That would make the next 3 weeks really... awkward... and difficult."

John snorted, but shook his head. "Who could hate you? I just think we should go get him... Make him feel welcome."

"Well we can make him welcome by buying him a coffee, one sugar, no milk." Molly said entering the Starbucks that was only a few paces away from gate 4.

"You got his coffee order down?" John is amused. "I should grab another tea..." He eyes the counter wistfully.

Molly just smiled. She was an organised person. Of course she had asked Sherlock how he took his coffee. "Get me a hot chocolate while you're at it." She said, briefly looking at the window to make sure that they didn't miss Sherlock while they were ordering drinks.

John does as he told, glancing over curiously as well but seeing no sign of any possible Sherlock Holmes as he moves to order drinks.

As John sits down, Molly's phone starts to ring.

"Maybe that's him." John says as he places their orders on the table.

"No. This is a landline." Molly replies, looking at the caller ID. "I'm gonna take this outside cus it's really noisy in here."

John nods. "Yeah course. I will wait just here."

John watches Molly as she takes the call outside the shop. She rarely talks, just listening to the caller most of the time, only replying once or twice. The call doesn't last long so soon, she is going back into the shop to sit at the table where John is waiting for her.

"What was that all about?" John questions her, drinking a sip of his tea.

"Ah, nothing. Just a call from O2 about my data usage." She replies swiftly before returning to the problem at hand."Kay, now I am starting to worry. It shouldn't be taking him this long to get through customs." Molly stated, getting her phone out of her bag, preparing to call him if he didn't turn up in the next few minutes. "Did you see him walk through the gate while I was on the phone?"

John nods. "Nope. Sorry. Told you that you should have called him." He clears his throat, sipping his drink.

Molly presses the call button on her phone, puts the phone to her ear, listening to the intermittent calling tone that carries on for 3 minutes before going to answer-phone. "Damn. He's not picking up the bloody phone." She says before calling him again.

"Come on, let's look out for him." John moves to stand, grabbing his tea.

Molly grabs Sherlock's coffee and her hot chocolate before following John as he walks through the airport sipping his tea.

"He can't have gone far. We were standing right in front of the gate. We can't have missed him. Anyway, if you were meeting someone at the airport wouldn't you wait for them or try calling them if they weren't there." Molly asked, running through all the things that could have happened to Sherlock.

"Stop panicking..." John tries to say, "Maybe he didn't see us and thought to look for us, honestly, it can't be too hard to find him. Could you try ringing him again?"

"I have lost my bloody exchange, I am allowed to panic." Molly argued, practically shouting at John before taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "Yes I will ring him again. You're right, he's got to be around here somewhere."

John turns away, at the shouting, clearly uncomfortable, but clears his throat, "Yes... We'll find him." He says quietly, looking down at his cup of tea.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to shout, it's just that the school is going to kill me when they find out that I lost my exchange before I even met him." Molly admitted looking down at the floor in embarrassment.

"You didn't lose him." John reaches a hand, rubbing her arm, "Look, we'll find him... maybe we should start somewhere.." he scans the place, "Where do you think he'd be interested in heading?"

"He's scholarly so probably somewhere with books or something. Maybe... WHSmith? I just feel like it's all my fault.." Molly muttered, frantically looking around hoping to catch sight of a chemistry text book or a suit or anything that could tell her where Sherlock could be.

John rubs her arm, linking arms with her now, pulling her to a stop. "Relax... it's not like he could leave. Come on, well check in WHSmith."

"He could leave. Remember, he used to live here. Yep... WHSmith and then we can see if there's a Waterstones somewhere around here." Molly said using John's arm to lean on as she got more and more worried.

"When he was a child!" John points out, "I'm quite sure things have changed, and he has no place to stay." He helps her around, into the bookstore, "Look around..."

Molly starts looking around the bookstore, too nervous to reply to John's previous comments. When she doesn't spot a single person fitting the description Sherlock had given her, he walked back to the entrance of the shop. John was already there waiting for her and as she approached, he shook his head, "Let's go and see if there are any more bookshop around?" Molly asked.

"Yeah, of course." John answers, offering her his arm, and pulling her along, past the storefront.

Molly keenly followed John through the small area of the airport that Sherlock could possibly be in. They passed many shops before reaching an information board that showed the layout of the airport. On the map she spotted that there was a Waterstones close by. "Come on. This way." She said grabbing John and dragging him along after her.

John followed obediently enough, clutching his drink. He hoped to reassure her, that they would find this Sherlock Holmes, and part of him felt a little irked, that this exchange student would lead his best friend on such a wild goose chase around Heathrow.

Eventually they managed to find Waterstones. It was rather small and tucked away in the corner of the airport next to a giant Boots. However they found that they did not need to go into the store that they had been searching for because as Molly was about to start running to the entrance, she spotted a mop of curly black hair, bobbing up and down an aisle in Boots. She turned to look to see if it wasn't her eyes playing tricks on her.

John was surprised to feel Molly stop, turning around now, "Molls-" he starts.

By the time John had spoken, Molly was already walking into Boots. She stopped once she had entered because the person who owned the black curls came into view. It was defiantly Sherlock Holmes. Even a blind person could tell that.

John stops after her, tea in hand, and falls silent, his eyes scanning the stranger. So this... was Sherlock Holmes?

"It's him? Positive?" He whispers to Molly.

"Positive" She whispered.

"Well, go on then..." John reaches over, taps the other boy's shoulder, "'Excuse me..."

"John..." she gulped but before she could say another word the boy had turned around and was now facing them.

Molly was frozen on the spot when she saw him. He had the bone structure of a model but at the same time not looking like a model. Stick thin in a way that made him look slightly underweight but at the same time a perfect size for his frame. Tall. Very tall. That made Molly a little bit scared of him because he easily over-towered her by at least 5 inches but despite the height difference, in her opinion he was bloody gorgeous.

John seemed to recover faster than she did, for he cleared his throat now, "You don't happen to be Sherlock Holmes, do you?" He decides to put it out there, tilting his head, "Fresh off the plane from France?"

While John spoke, Molly looked at the floor willing herself to calm down before looking back up at him again.

She managed to calm herself down enough to look back up at him again, hoping that the person standing in front of them was in fact Sherlock Holmes because if it wasn't she would be deeply upset.

John is waiting expectantly for an answer, glancing over at Molly. He can clearly see she is affected, and gives her a small nudge, encouraging her forward.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Yes, I know. You're Molly Hooper and this is your best friend John Watson. You have known each other for about 5 years but have only recently become close friends, maybe because John's brother has recently come out and Molly was a good friend to come to when you needed someone to talk to. Molly's parents are together, both probably doctors or some job in the medical profession while John's parents are together but going through difficulties, definitely due to your brother's recent declaration. Any curses that you want to get out of the way before we leave?" Sherlock finished, looking at them both intensely.

"B-but..." John stammered, "But that's... brilliant..." His tea leaves his hand, splashing on his feet, "Damn..."

**I want to thank my co-writer and beta for being an absolute star! We would really appreciate it if anyone who likes this story follows, likes and comments :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Molly just takes one look at the mess that the tea made before taking some tissues out of her bag, handing the coffee and her hot chocolate to Sherlock so that she could begin to mop up the tea.

John kneels down on the floor, and starts to clean up with her, his eyes wandering curiously to Sherlock.

Sherlock just stood there as Molly and John cleaned up the tea. Every few seconds, Molly would look up at Sherlock before continuing to clean up John's mess. In the end they had used up nearly a whole pack of tissues, putting them all into John's fallen tea cup before depositing it in a nearby bin.

John clears his throat, his cheeks aflame. He notices Sherlock staring but looks away to avoid his gaze. "Sorry about that..."

"Come on. We need to get going soon. Sherlock needs to unpack before my parents come home so that we can help them to make dinner. Oh and by dinner, I mean a banquet." Molly said.

John nods. "Yeah... Sure." He leads them out of the airport, sneaking glances at Sherlock, who seems to be staring right back.

While they walk, Molly notices John's quick glances at Sherlock and when they can no longer see her face, she smiles and even lets out a silent chuckle. "Our car is the red SEAT. If you give me your bag I can put it in the boot for you?" Molly asked briefly, turning around to face Sherlock, managing look at him without any obvious reaction and for which, she was proud of.

John looks over, noting her slightly reddened face and smiles to himself, chuckling quietly. _Oh dear Molly_... "I could help, too." He offers.

"No, No, it's fine. I can manage it on my own, Watson. Go and get the car started as you're our driver for today." Molly said, flapping her arms around to emphasise what she was saying so that John would get in the car and leave her to it.

John waggles his eyebrows at her, as though he knows exactly what she is up to. He catches his keys, having thrown them in the air and heads to the driver's seat.

While all this was happening, Sherlock has deposited his suitcase at Molly's feet before getting into the back seat of the car. He usually didn't like to sit in the back seat but he realised that for once he would have to compromise as he was the guest.

John was startled as he looked into the rear view mirror and Sherlock caught his eye. Nervously he ran a hand through his hair, "So...Did you have a good flight?"

Sherlock looked up from his phone. He had been trying to send his parents an email so that they would stop trying to contact him for a few hours. He really did not need them contacting him every five minutes when he had finally managed to escape from them.

"Yes my flight went as well as to be expected. As usual, the seats were uncomfortable and after reading all three of my textbooks, I became extremely bored." Sherlock replied continuing to type again before muttering, "I hate flying!"

"Didn't you watch any films?" John wondered, raising an eyebrow now, as he looks back to the other boy, attention focused on him. "You finished three chemistry books in _that_ short a time?"

Sherlock looked at the boy in front of him. He knew everything about him and he had told him this, yet the boy was still talking to him. _Why?_

"No I didn't want to watch any of their predictable films. I could guess the endings of each one within the first five minutes of the film so what is the point of me wasting my valuable time doing something so... pointless." Sherlock replied, pocketing his phone as Molly got back into the car.

John raises an eyebrow, as he starts up the car. "That's kind of amazing... How did you know? Just now... All that stuff…"

"It's called deducing. I found out all that stuff about you because I observed you. I watched you. Took in every detail about you." Sherlock saw that John was still confused so he explained further.

"For example I knew your name because I can see the name tag hanging in your coat. I knew that you and Molly are close friends because she linked her arm with you, I know that most girls do that kind of thing but the way that she looks happy in your company and keeps looking at you to make sure that you're ok shows that she cares about you deeply. The brother thing was a little bit harder. Firstly you did not go home last night and that seems to happen quite often because you actually had spare clothes to change into. I can tell you did not bring those clothes with you because of the fold marks and the small dust particles on your t-shirts so you leave them at Molly's house because you often stay over. Now most friends stay over whenever they want to but you do not. Most of the time you only stay over because of you parents. Why? Because of your brother who has recently come out as gay. But how do I know that? Your phone has gone off several times since I met you earlier and each time it's a message from your parents, so they are worried about you but not enough to actually call you up therefore they have something else going on. Now what would your parents care about more than their son? Possibly each other but no, a sibling. Your other phone that you keep in your inner pocket. It's second hand, pretty expensive and it's got an engraving. It's signed off by someone whose name begins with a C with 3 kisses so romantic interest. Now C, who is C?"

" The chance of this person being female is very unlikely because women often sign off with a nickname or don't even sign off with their name. And as well if your brother is in the closet then his boyfriend wouldn't use their full name in case your parents saw it and put two and two together. So, male romantic interest. But why would your brother give away the phone that his partner to you? Worry. He wants to be able to keep in contact with you but is unable to contact you via your personal phone so he gave you his one even if he is sentimentally attached to it. Come on how did I do?" Sherlock finished after speaking for such a long time at a very fast pace.

John lets out a low whistle. "Wow... That's... Really impressive." He glances at Molly, "Right Molls? I mean, you almost got everything right..."

"Almost." Sherlock said quickly. "There's always something. What did I get wrong then?" He asked, slightly disappointed with himself.

"For one, Molly and I didn't bond over Harry's coming out. Yes we've been friends for five years, but... It's complicated. Why we became best friends... And um..." John bites his lip. "I don't have a brother. Harry is my sister. Clara is her girlfriend."

"Sister. Sister!" Sherlock muttered, shaking his head "I not only got one person's gender wrong but two! Damn."

"Don't take it too harshly." John says lightly, chuckling. "But that was absolutely amazing, it really was."

"Uhm…. Thank you." Sherlock said, looking at John in shock "Not many people say that after I deduce them."

John flushes a little, his cheeks going red, "What do people normally say after you deduce them?"

"Piss off..."

That actually makes John laugh, he looks over at Molly. Molly takes one look at Sherlock and John, and starts to laugh. Warm, rich laughter fills the car as they all take pleasure in the hilarity of the situation. They are sitting there, in a warm car, with a French boy that they have just picked up who seems to be the strangest person that they have ever met yet, something about he was... nice, strange but nice.

"Well..."

"Maybe we should get going now." Molly stated as she finally stopped laughing.

John nods, as he gets them on the road and on the way back to Molly's house.

Just as they get onto the main road, Molly turns on the radio, putting it on her favourite music station, Capital FM. She hears Sherlock scoff behind her so she turns around. "Please don't say that you dislike my music ." Molly states raising her eyebrows at Sherlock. When she is met with Sherlock coping her actions, she asks, "What's your kind of music then?"

John keeps an ear out, arching his eyebrow but keeps his eyes on the road.

"Definitely not songs that are overrated and have zero creativity put into them. I bet you all the songs you love are filled with soppy lyrics about being in love and how it makes one unable to control themselves? You must understand that in real life that never happens. Happy endings never happen. The only reason why people sing about love is because they want to get someone in bed with them and people seem to react if they hear all these words in a song just about them." Sherlock announced, not actually answering Molly's question in the process.

John snorts, "That's a rather cynical view... you don't believe in love, then? Your girlfriend must be disappointed..."

"Girlfriend! Even if I was interested in such a stupid thing, I definitely wouldn't be getting a girlfriend. They are too... too...awful." Sherlock spat out, horrified simply at the thought of such a situation.

"Boyfriend then?" John offers.

"Well at least I now know that you're not as prejudiced as I first thought you were." Sherlock said

"_Excuse me_?" John questions.

Sherlock sighed, before explaining it all to him."You don't answer your sister's texts, not exactly sure why though...before I thought it was because you had the same opinion as your parents but you openly asked me if I had a boyfriend so you don't have a problem about your sister's sexuality. So, why aren't you talking to her?"

John glances at Molly, it is something he has not told her, either. "I'd prefer not to talk about it." He directs his gaze to the road, hands tightening around the wheel

Sherlock, for once, decides to stay quiet and Molly, also, does the same thing, turning the music up when one of her favourite songs comes onto the radio.

John puts them both out of his mind, falling silent himself and keeping his attention on the road. He knows Molly will wear him down eventually, with questions, but he isn't ready for that. Or for Sherlock to know.

The rest of the car journey goes by without any more problems, they simply sit silently listening to the radio and when a good song comes on, John and Molly hum (or sing) along to it. However the silence is obvious and very awkward.

"Seriously guys, can you two just kiss and makeup because I really don't want there to be any issues over the next three weeks." Molly pleads.

"There is really nothing to talk about." John says breezily. "Really!"

Molly glances at John, trying to understand why he didn't want Sherlock to apologise for what he said. "I want this sorted out before we go into my house. Sherlock please apologise."

"What! Why should I apologise? I just stated the facts." Sherlock insisted.

"I don't care if you were simply stating facts. You need to apologise." Molly commanded, raising her eyebrows at the French boy. Even though she only just met the boy, she instantly felt that she had the right to tell him what to do as she had obviously hit a nerve with John and he was her best friend- nobody was allowed to hurt him if she was there to stop them.

John shook his head. "It's fine." He doesn't want Molly to ruin her friendship with this boy because of him, nor does he want to cause trouble.

"No. No. He is apologising." Molly turned around to Sherlock who still wasn't budging on the matter. "We wouldn't want Mycroft finding out about this little incident would we?" Molly said keeping her eyes on Sherlock as she did so. She said it in a way that caused him to listen straight away.

Sherlock's eyes went wide when he heard his brother's name spoken by her. As his brother wasn't a very well known member of the British government, he would not expect people to know about him, let alone know that he was his brother. So she had spoken to him and _that_ was never a good thing. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed with his brother's impeccable speed or annoyed that he couldn't even be in the country five minutes before he phoned up the family he was staying with.

"Yes. Of course, Molly. I apologise for whatever I did to offend you, John. I will try and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"It's really fine." John says, uncomfortable with the coercion. "Really... You didn't know... So it's alright. Don't worry about it."

"Good. Now John, hurry up and get me home. I need to have a shower. I feel all disgusting and gross..." Molly muttered, pulling a spray deodorant out her bag and began spraying herself. As soon as this happened coughing broke out in the car.

"Christ, Molls, put that away!" John splutters, swatting her away playfully, "It's awful..." He laughs, as he starts to drive down to her street.

"Are you calling my deodorant bad, Mr-I-smell-like-a-swamp." Molly exclaiming, putting the deodorant back into her bag whilst laughing so hard that her head nearly fell off her shoulders.

"I don't smell like a swamp!" John pouts. "That's uncalled for, Hooper!"

"Seriously, you should smell yourself after P.E." Molly teased.

John shakes his head. "You have olfactory problems..."

Molly looks around confused, frowning at what John had just said. "So, you're saying that I have a smell disorder?"

"You have a problem with your sense of smell..." John supplies, "And that affects your taste. Hence proven by the toffee popcorn."

"No no no no no no no." Molly laughed. "Who seriously eats toffee popcorn though? How can someone eat toffee flavoured popcorn when there's salty popcorn. Now that's what you call good popcorn, not that sweet sickly stuff that never leaves your mouth for hours after you have eaten it."

John pouts, turning to her as he keeps one eye on the road, "Toffee popcorn is great! That's the point, the lingering taste... you know I have a sweet tooth!"

Molly glances at John before turning around to check on Sherlock who at first had no intentions to listen to the conversation but had decided to as he had never seen two people interact in such a friendly way in all of his life.

"Yes...well... I don't have a sweet tooth so I don't like that toffee crap. Let's just agree to disagree on the matter of favourite popcorn flavours."

John is pouting still, but nods. "We can get both, I can compromise." He agrees comfortably as they pull up at her house.

"Good because I think we should have a few of our traditional movie nights while Sherlock is here. What movies do you like, Sherlock?" Molly asked, grabbing her handbag that was sitting next to her feet before opening the car door in order to get out.

"I don't really watch movies often." Sherlock replies as takes his seatbelt off slowly.

John was getting out of his seat too, car keys as well, turning to look at the boy._ Should his piercing eyes be making his heart pound so much? _John slams the door shut, waiting outside.

Molly went around the left side of the car to get the boot so that she could get Sherlock's bags out of the car. As she opened the boot, Sherlock was the last one to get out, swishing his coat so that most of the creases that appeared while travelling smoothed out. Then he bent down to the level of the wing mirror, ruffling his hair as he looked into it, before straightening up again.

"What's with the coat?" Molly asked, after looking at Sherlock's little performance, she began to lift the bags out of the car.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock replied.

John raises an eyebrow at that, to him the boy now looked like a vain peacock- a rather attractive, vain peacock.

"The coat. You look like an old man in it. Do wear it all the time cus, isn't it quite warm in France." Molly asked, continuing to struggle to carry Sherlock's bags to the door. They were amazingly heavy for someone who was only staying for three weeks.

"Miss Hooper, your idea of France must be seriously optimistic. It is warmer than England but I think that at least 75% of the countries... no, 72% of the countries in the world are hotter than England but by all means France isn't nearly as hot as places in Europe such as Greece. If you wish to continue to study A-level French then you might want to learn more about France itself. And personally, the coat does make me look older. That's the whole point of it." Sherlock finished, moving towards Molly so that he could pick up the smaller of the two bags that she was trying to carry.

John takes the larger bag from her, helping her carry it. "She wouldn't have known." He says, shrugging. "Come on then."

"Thanks" Molly mutters to John before following him towards her front door with Sherlock right behind her. "He's right though. I do need to learn more about France itself but that's why I am doing this exchange. The only time that I ever go to France is in the summer holidays with my parents and that's to the South of France where most places we visit are really touristy. This exchange trip will help me to understand more about the traditional French culture. Although Sherlock, I don't mean to sound rude or anything but you aren't actually originally from France so will I be able to learn about the traditional French culture while I am staying your home?" Molly asked rather quietly, not wanting to upset her guest by offending him before he even got through the front door.

"Both of my parents speak fluent French and that is the language that we converse in at home. My parents were originally from England but for many years before my birth my parents often visited France on both business and for leisure. We might not be able to provide you with the some of the experiences that people of French origin would provide but both I and my parents are very well educated on French tradition and therefore we will try and provide you with a mixture of both the traditional French way of life and the way that we do it. Hopefully you will enjoy the experience immensely and will learn a lot from it." Sherlock commented, following the pair before coming to a stop at the door, just as they did.

Molly took out her door keys from her bag, put them into the door and turned the door handle before entering the house. "Welcome to the Hooper household." Molly said, not commenting on what Sherlock had said because she had just been proved that her question rather stupid. Of course he would be able to provide her with an excellent experience, if not he wouldn't have been picked to take part in the exchange program.

John touched her arm lightly after Sherlock entered, "Hey, don't worry about it... I've never even been to France. Loosen up."

"I know... it's just he's all... posh and I feel like I have to prove myself to him for some weird reason." Molly replied dumping Sherlock's bags in the hall before walking through to the kitchen with John by her side. "Sherlock, do you want anything to eat? Flight foods crap so you must want something a bit nicer." Molly shouted, well... raised her voice so that Sherlock could hear as he was still in the hall.

"Yes please, but nothing too heavy. I don't really eat much but you are right about the flight food." Sherlock replied opening the smaller of his two bags and getting a small wrapped parcel out and his duty free bag. He walked through the hall and followed the sound of Molly's voice, leading him to the kitchen. "This is for you." Sherlock said as he passed the wrapped parcel to Molly "And this is for your parents but I will give it to them when they arrive back from work." Sherlock stated as he lifted the duty free carrier bag up and placing it on the kitchen worktop that John was standing next to while Molly was standing in the middle of the kitchen carefully opening the parcel.

Once the wrapping paper was removed, Molly found a small yellow book called 'Gwynne's Latin'. "How did you know I study Latin?" Molly asked flicking through the pages of the book and looking at certain pages which interested her.

"In your first letter you wrote, when you were talking about your school told me the school motto: _diev et mon droit_ and translated it, _God and my right._ Only people who study Latin would bother to translate it let alone mention it. I suppose you could say that it was a bit of a lucky guess because you could have gotten it of the internet but I suspected that you were more scholarly than that."Sherlock deduced.

"Well, thanks. This should come in handy." Molly said, smiling at the French boy.

John watches them warmly, leaning against the counter. Molly hands John the book for him to look at and then gives him a look that tells him that he needs to go and put it in her room for her.

Molly goes to the fridge-freezer and takes out some ham, lettuce, tomatoes and bread placing them on a cutting board before opening a cupboard to fetch a grab bag of Kettle crisps. "I know it isn't very... but later we will be having a proper full cooked meal with my parents so I don't want to make something too filling."

"It's fine, more than enough." Sherlock replied, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watches the food being prepared.

John flips through the book, recognising nothing, turns away to head to Molly's room, and put it on the shelf, leaving the two exchange buddies alone for a bit while he goes to the toilet.

Sherlock shook his head, eyeing the sandwiches, "No... but like I said, I do not each much in the way of food.."

Molly glances a look at Sherlock as she continues to prepare the sandwiches. "Why don't you eat much, if you don't mind me asking?"

The boy shrugged, "It's just the way things have been." He dismisses, as he leans forward, elbows on the counter, "Food has never been a priority."

"You do realise that your body needs food to survive?" Molly asked, cutting the sandwiches in half and putting them each on a plate.

He sighs, "It's not that I _never_ eat, it's that I chose not to. Not often, anyway. The body is just transport. Eating slows me down."

Molly raises her eyebrows at him. "Just don't do it too often cus I don't want you passing out on me. What do you mean by _'it slows me down'_? I am sure that food should speed you upbecause it gives you more energy for movement."

"No... it makes you heavy and sluggish. Hunger keeps the mind sharp, that's what I need." Sherlock looks to her, arching an eyebrow as well.

"So you'r basically harming yourself so... that you can ... think?! Molly asked, passing Sherlock one of the plates and leading him into the kitchen with John's sandwich, her own and the bag of crisps.

"I don't actually harm myself. I would never do that. When I feel hungry I eat but if not then I don't. Simple as that." Sherlock states trying to reassure the girl who was acting more like a sibling than his actual brother ever did.

"Good." Molly commented.

"About my brother..." Sherlock begins, twiddling his fingers- a habit which he always did when he thought and spoke about his brother. "just ignore everything he said. He thinks that he is doing the best thing by me when he bribes people to spy on me."

"Oh... is that why he decided to ask me to spy on you for a very large sum of money?" Molly asked, rather shocked at Sherlock's brother's lack of tact.

"Yes. I hope you took the money."

"Of course not-"

"That was stupid! We could have split it." Sherlock admits, smiling cunningly which makes Molly laugh.

They both continue to laugh until Molly remembers that John has not returned from her room yet which is weird as he only went up there to put her new book away.

"John we're in the living room eating when _and_ if you decide to return to the real world." Molly shouted up to John.

There is no reply.

"Perhaps I should go get him?" Sherlock offers.

"Yeah. You don't mind, do you?" Molly asked taking a bite out of her sandwich and chewing it before continuing. "All the rooms are clearly labelled so you should be able to find my room easily enough."

"Yes, alright..." Sherlock seems a little puzzled by this, but nods, walking away.

Sherlock exits the living room and walks up the stairs. When he reaches the top step, he realises what Molly meant. Every door has a sign on. And when she said every door, she literally meant _every _door. The toilet, Molly's room, her parents' room, the office. Obviously the signs were new so they were probably put up specifically for Sherlock so he didn't get lost while he was staying there. Of course they did not know that he would easily remember where the rooms were...

Sherlock walked up Molly's door and knocked on it before calling out to John.

John was not in the bedroom, he was in the bathroom, leaning against the door.

"Stop it, mum. Honestly, why do you have to get like this? Harry's your daughter! What do you mean you're not inviting her?"

Sherlock caught the sound of John's voice resonating down the hall so he followed it, keen to find out who he was talking to. When Sherlock reached the bathroom he was about to knock when he heard:

"I don't care if she's gay, she's your daughter! If she's not going, I'm not coming." John let out an exasperated noise, "Yes, I know I live there, I'll find something else to do!"

Sherlock continued to listen to John on the phone, bending over and placing his head next to the door. So he had deduced John all wrong. He really didn't care about his sister's sexuality... so he probably only cared about the problems the revelation was causing due to his parents old fashioned views.

John sighed, "Listen, mum, we'll talk later. No, I don't care. I'm not a child anymore, you can't ground me, and I earn my own allowance, remember?" He fell silent listening, "Why do you have to be like this? No, I'm not! Just stop... stop all this, okay! You and dad never let this go. No one cares about your stupid political views. This is about _our family_!"

"Sherlock! Have you found John yet?" Molly shouted up to Sherlock.

John freezes, turning off the tap quickly before flinging the door open.

Sherlock is momentarily frozen on the spot when he hears Molly calling and before he knows it the bathroom door _nearly_ knocks him out. However, he manages to get out of the way just in time to avoid the full brunt of the door.

John immediately brushes past Sherlock, almost unaware the other boy is there, going down to Molly who is still sitting in the living room.

Sherlock follows John, trying to come up with an idea to bring up the subject of the conversation that he had just overheard.

John strolled into the living room, forcing himself to appear relaxed, "Hey Molls."

"You took your bloody time." Molly said, taking a handful of crisps from the bag and chewing them. "Come on eat up. We need to give Sherlock a tour of the house."

Molly continues to pick at the crisps, turning on the TV when things get a little bit awkward and puts on the news, something that Sherlock will hopefully like.

Sherlock takes a few bites out of one of the halves of the sandwich before putting the remainder of the sandwich back onto the plate and returning it to the coffee table. He takes a handful of crisps and leans back to watch the news. _Maybe his brother had started a war while he was in England._

John picks at his sandwich dismally too.

"Come on. If you're both going to pick at your sandwiches then I might as well take you around the house, Sherlock. Up you pop." Molly said, getting up from the sofa, turning the TV off and going out of the living room.

John rises too as he is probably expected to follow after all.

"Ok, Sherlock, you have a choice. We can either set up a blow up bed on my bedroom floor or you can stay in the spare bedroom. Your choice." Molly asks, leading them both up the stairs and showing Sherlock her room. "This is my room as you probably already know."

Sherlock would later describe Molly's room as rather large, for a bedroom that wasn't the master bedroom, which had a bed underneath the window, a wardrobe in the corner, a desk next to the bed, a chest of drawers between the desk and the bed, a storage box at the end of the bed and a well stocked bookcase near the door. The room was painted a light yellow colour and had a few posters of some famous people on the walls.

John had seen it all before, of course. He leans against the doorway, listening in, whilst his thoughts are elsewhere.

"Spare bedroom would be fine, thank you. I don't really sleep much anyway so I wouldn't want to disturb you if I slept on your bedroom floor and woke up in the middle of the night and started to pace around." Sherlock said, simply.

"Of course and is this another one of your crazy habits?" Molly asked raising her eyebrows at him again.

"Yes. My mind is like an engine, it rarely stops especially at night."

"You might want to try and get some sleep over the next 3 weeks though cus we are going to be really busy. First week we have school then in the second week we have to do touristy things around London. I bet London has changed a lot since you were little so that should be good for you. And then in the third week my parents said that they might take us to Scotland or Ireland or anywhere in Britain that we want to go or we can go on our own. Whatever you want. Then on the last night we are throwing a party." Molly finally finished, moving a few things around on her desk.

"Sounds very busy but it should be... fun." Sherlock said with a hint of disgust on the last word.

"John can you go and get Sherlock's bags for him while I show him the spare bedroom and his bathroom?" Molly asked, smiling at John in hope to persuade him to help her out.

"Yeah, sure." John says easily, heading out into the living room, where he starts collecting the bags.

"This is the main bathroom that you can use while you stay here. I also use it but I don't think that will be a problem." Molly said, opening the door to a spotless bathroom that had a bath, sink, shower and toilet in it. "If you want you can leave all your toiletries in this little basket on the window-ledge so you know where they are." Molly showed Sherlock a small wicker basket and then placed it back on the shelf, moving out of the bathroom and towards the spare room.

"And this will be your room while you are here. It's right next to my room so if you need anything just come and get me." Molly opened the door to a room that was slightly smaller then her own but not by much. Again the layout of the spare room was similar to Molly's room except that instead of having a bookcase there was a shelf above the small desk. "There should be some towels in here." Molly said opening the wardrobe, pulling a large towel, a hand towel and a face cloth out of the bottom of it. "If you need anything washing then put it in the washing basket which is on the landing."

Sherlock looked around the room once, taking in his surroundings before going over to the bed to sit on it. "This is perfect, Molly. Thank you."

John comes in with the bags, setting them on the bed, his shoulder brushes against Sherlock as he rights himself.

Sherlock thanks John for carrying his bags up the stairs before starting to go through his bag to find his laptop. He places it on the desk before returning to his bags.

"We'll leave you to unpack. If you need anything we will just be in my room." Molly announced grabbing John's wrist and dragging him back to her room.

"Yeah, see you." John offers him a half hearted waved, still bummed out.

After Molly dragged John into her room, she quickly closed the door behind them and went to sit on her bed.

John follows after her, sitting down on the bed as well.

"Well he's..." Molly started

"Interesting." John supplies.

"Yes. Defiantly. How am I meant to keep him entertained over the next three weeks though? The first week should be fine cus we have school all day and then I can just take him home, do homework, eat and then sleep. But the next two? Not so easy." Molly asked, putting her head in her hands.

"We could take him on a tour of London. Visit every London tourist spot known to man." John offers, "There must be something interesting enough for him."

"If we do that we will probably spend the next two weeks in museums, not that I don't love museums it's just... it will get a bit boring especially as I have already been to most of the London ones." Molly answered, not calming down in the slightest.

John pushed aside his problems, for now, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "It's not just museums... I'm sure there are bookstores, and maybe he likes sight-seeing?"

Molly leaned into the arm, hoping that his warm presence might soothe her. "I suppose. I just want him to enjoy his time here. I don't want him having a bad memory of his time in England with that weird English girl."

"He won't... he seems happy." John assures her, "Don't worry about it, yeah? You need to have a good time as well."

"M'suppose." Molly said, placing her head against John's chest, wrapping an arm around his waist so that she could cuddle with him for a moment. She was not only doing this because of her French boy problems, that would be such a minor reason to get upset over but she was doing it because John had just had a phone call from his parents. She could always tell when he had because his mood seemed to deteriorate to a stage in which he would only say a few words at a time. She thought that Sherlock would probably be proud of her if he knew that she could deduce John from time to time. Molly hoped that John would be able to understand that she was here for him when he wanted to talk, which seemed to be never as he was a typical guy- keeping all of his feelings in until he burst.

John seemed to understand, his arms going around her too, holding her close, as he sighed, softly.

"Watson and Hooper against the world." Molly muttered into John's t shirt.

John nods, resting his chin on her head. "The best team."

Sherlock walked back into the living room after briefly placing all of his tailored trousers and blazers in the wardrobe and stuffing the rest of his clothes in the chest of drawers. He saw Molly and John hugging and briefly considered going back to his room for a moment because he didn't want to interrupt what would be a very awkward for him but John noticed him standing in the doorway before he could escape to his room.

John doesn't pull away at once. Instead he does the gentlemanly thing, he slowly release her, almost tenderly, before settling beside her. He acts completely benign, like Sherlock just walked in on a tea party of sorts, unfazed. "Hello."

"Hello. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Sherlock apologised, staying right where he was.

John shook his head. "No, don't worry."

"Good." Sherlock mutters, walking over to the chair that was in the corner of the room and unoccupied to sit down in it.

"So... What do you wanna do now?" Molly asked looking at Sherlock to try and find an answer "We could watch a movie or go out for a bit. My parents should be home at 5 and then we have to help them cook dinner so we have 2 hours to do something. Anything you want."

John looked over, interested to hear what he had to say, to get his mind off things.

Sherlock looks at Molly before looking at John. "I don't mind. What would you two do if I wasn't here?"Sherlock asked.

Molly looked at John before leaning forward and whispering into his ear.

John turns to her, "Are you sure?"

"Defiantly!" Molly says enthusiastically, jumping up and going to her room. She returns five minutes later with her hands full. "Ok. _We_ have the choice of playing Monopoly, Cluedo, CatchPhrase or Guess Who." Molly says while playing all the games down on the coffee table.

"So _this _is what you do for fun?" Sherlock asked, moving forward towards the coffee table to inspect the games.

"Yeah. We just play and talk and whoever loses has to do a forfeit. Usually we do it at night and the forfeit is to drink a shot of vodka but we will just have to make up the forfeits for now as it is too early to start drinking." Molly answers.

"Yeah, we'll chose the forfeit after... what should we play?" John asks.

Sherlock takes a moment to look at all the games, reading the writing on the back of the boxes before making his decision. "Cluedo first. Then... maybe catchphrase."

"Ok, let me just set it up first. Have you ever played Cluedo before?" Molly asked.

"I think I did when I was little. My brother and I ended up shouting at our nanny because she said that it couldn't be the victim that committed the crime. Maybe I will like it better this time." Sherlock stated, helping Molly to set up the game.

John nods, helping to assemble it also, setting up the game board. "The game is on, then."

"Yes John. The game is on!" Sherlock repeats, smiling cunningly at John.

"I don't think you are going to beat John though. He is pretty good at most of these board games. He usually beats me every time which means that by the end of time I am so drunk that I can hardly walk so I will probably end up doing _every single_ forfeit. Just please, don't make them too hard." Molly begs, finishing to put up the board.

John smirks, "That's true... but I'll go easy on you, seeing you haven't played in awhile."

Sherlock smiles as John. "Thank you but please don't play too easy on me. I think that without your help I should be able to beat you. Easily."

John shoots Molly a look, "Thanks for being so modest."

"Your welcome." Sherlock says sarcastically.

"Okay. So you have to find out three main facts: the murderer, the location of the murder and the murder weapon." Molly says as she shuffles the cards, randomly selecting three from each pile and places them in the envelope. Then she takes the rest of the cards and deals them clockwise to the players until all the cards are dealt. Afterwards she places the murder weapons in the rooms randomly and puts the characters on the assigned starting space.

"As I am Miss Scarlett I get to go first. So you roll the dice." And as she says it, she rolls the dice. "Ok, so I got a 7 so I get to move 7 spaces, horizontally or vertically but never diagonally." Molly moves Miss Scarlett into the lounge. "Ok... so I suspect Professor Plum in the lounge with a dagger and now the person to my left, which is John, has to prove that my theory is incorrect.

John produces the card that shows a dagger, smirking. He rolls a two, and takes diagonal steps, but does not enter any room.

Now it was Sherlock's go. He rolls a 5 and does not go into a room.

Molly decided to take the secret passageway into the conservatory. "I suspect Professor Plum in the lounge with a rope."

John produces the lounge card. "Hey, how about on the third time you guess wrong you have to do a forfeit?" He jokes.

"Damn." Molly mutters, shaking her head as she laughs at the change in the rules. "I am going to be doing forfeits every minute if we enforce that rule!"

"No, that's a good rule! It will be funnier this way." Sherlock agreed.

John laughed. "Watch up, Molls."

"Yeah, I think you know that you have chosen your friends wrongly when you have to watch your back because your best friend is trying to make things impossible for you." Molly replies, trying to decide what her next move would be.

John smirks, "Nah."

When they get ten minutes into the game Molly gets her first forfeit. She has to eat a sandwich John makes for her: Cheese, cut up apple, honey, sweet chilli sauce, tomato ketchup and raw carrot. Disgusting.

They continue playing Cluedo for thirty minutes before anything interesting happens again. John makes his third guess at what cards are in the envelope and gets it wrong.

"Damnit." He cusses, before turning to Molly, steeling his nerves. "I'm ready."

"You have to sit on Sherlock's lap. For the remainder of this game!" Molly states, barely containing her laughter.

"What!" John practically screeches. "I can't do that! I'll break him!"

"Seriously, John. I don't think you will break me although I am sure that this is John's dare not mine so why do I have to join in as well?" Sherlock asked Molly.

"Because it will be funny _and_ I can take photos of this so that I can blackmail John in the future." Molly replied, continuing to laugh at the faces that both John and Sherlock were pulling.

John wrinkled his nose. "Molly!" He says, almost scandalized before he reluctantly perched himself on Sherlock's lap. From where he is, he can feel the man's breath hit the back of his neck, and almost shivers.

Sherlock just sits still as John climbs onto his lap. He tries to keep his breathing steady but it was very hard for him to do so when a teenage boy was perched on his lap. He just hopes that his body wouldn't react traitorously while the boy was still on his lap.

Molly just smiles at the obvious tension between the pair while they were so close to each other but continues with the game, trying to make it go as slowly as possible to draw out the forfeit for as long as possible.

John is clearly uncomfortable, sitting arm rod straight, as he tries not to lean too far into Sherlock, or weigh down on his lap. His game is clearly off, he blunders up even more after that.

Sherlock can tell that John is clearly uncomfortable with the situation that they are in but he figures it's just because he is sitting on a strangers lap. He tries to play his best but unfortunately he has three guesses and has to have a forfeit.

"Hold John's waist with _both_ of your hands." Molly commands, clearly laughing at the new forfeit.

"Okay. There." Sherlock says as he briefly touches John's waist with his hands before putting them back down so that they are on the floor either side of his legs.

"Noooooo... you have to do it for longer than that. For the whole game." Molly whines, enjoying the look on John's face as Sherlock touches him in such a private area.

"How am I meant to play if my hands are on his waist?" Sherlock asks, trying really hard to get out of this dare because he doesn't want to do it, especially if it makes John even more awkward with him.

"You'll find a way." Molly mutters as Sherlock reluctantly places his hands on John's waist. "The games nearly over anyway so you won't have to keep you hands there for long."

John seems to take in a sharp breath, as he grows more distracted. The game finishes five minutes after Sherlock started to hold onto John's waist with Molly winning for the first time in her life. It seemed that the forfeit managed to put Sherlock and John off the game which benefited Molly greatly.

John scowls at her, now freeing himself from Sherlock, cheeks red.

They then go onto play Catchphrase as they still have some time before Molly's parents are meant to arrive home. They got halfway through the game of catchphrase before Molly's parents came home from work, slightly earlier than usual.

John looks up, smiling. "Hello, Doctor Hooper, Doctor Hooper."

"Hello John. How are you today?" William Hooper asked.

"Good, thank you." John stood now, smiling.

"Hello, Molly, John." Patricia says, "And this must be Sherlock?"

"Yes I am. Hello Doctor Hooper." Sherlock politely answered to Molly's mum, holding out his hand so that she could shake it. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, I hope you have a good stay here." Patricia replies, shaking the boys's hand.

"Thank you. I think I will."Sherlock smiles at Molly's parents before remembering their present. "Uhm... actually I have something for you." Sherlock walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, picking up the present before returning to the lounge. "Here you go."

"Oh, thank you dear!" Patricia takes it, "It's very thoughtful of you."

"You really didn't need to, Sherlock." William Hooper began, looking at the bottle of expensive wine that they had been given "And if we are going to call you Sherlock then you should call us by our first names too. I'm William and this is my wife Patricia."

"It's fine Doctor... William. I hope you enjoy it." Sherlock addressed Molly's father with a kind smile.

"I'm sure we will." Patricia smiles warmly, "Now why don't you all clear this up and come help with dinner?"

"Yeah course, Mum. We will only be a minute." Molly replied, grabbing some of the games and picking them up so that she can put them back into her room. Both Sherlock and John help her to clear up before following her back into the kitchen.

"Can I have a shower before dinner because I didn't have time for one this morning?" Molly asked her parents, hoping that she would be able to get out of some of the dinner preparation as well.

"Yes of course. As long as you help out a bit before you go." William replied, smiling at his daughter because it was obvious that she was trying to get out of helping.

A loud sigh was heard from the teenage girl and everyone in the room laughed.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. The boys help the Hooper family to make a full Sunday roast- every single thing homemade and they sit down to eat a few hours later. The conversation ranges from France to Sherlock's family to London tourist spots that they must visit. John leaves after dinner, refusing to sit down and watch some TV with them as he unfortunately, has to show his parents that he is still alive. Molly and Sherlock go to bed at ten o'clock and thankfully, they both managed to get to sleep almost immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys :) Sorry I haven't updated in a while but luckily my co author and I have written a lot and all we have to do is edit it. If you enjoy this story please take the time to review, like, favourite and subscribe :) We really appreciate all the feedback :)**

Molly heard a knock at her door so she turned on the reading lamp. She looked at her alarm clock that was sitting on her bedside table.

5:54

For a moment she considered pretending that she was asleep... but she had a nagging suspicion that whoever was on the other side of the door could already hear the pounding of her heart through the wall that separated them.

"Come in." Molly said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and pulling the hair tie out of her hair.

Lo and behold, it's Sherlock Holmes, looking rather sheepish. He was half dressed, wearing a t-shirt and suit trousers with a dressing gown over the top of them. "Were you asleep?"

"No. I have just been lying in bed wide awake all night." Molly replied sarcastically, tying her hair back up in a neat ponytail and rearranging herself in bed.

"Good. Like me then." Sherlock dismisses, closing the door firmly behind him but just stood over the threshold fiddling with his fingers. For a moment, Sherlock stood there awkwardly, waiting to be directed but when Molly didn't say where he should sit, he perched on the end of Molly's bed.

"I was being sarcastic, Sherlock." Molly muttered slightly annoyed about being woken up so early. The tiny reading lamp wasn't enough to combat the darkness that was engulfing the room. She got off the bed and reached the flick the light switch on.

He seems to brush this aside. "About your friend, John..."

"It's 6 o'clock and you want to talk about John?" Molly asked, starting to cheer up a bit. "You must really like him then."

Sherlock shoots her a curious look. "I... may have done something wrong..."

"Wrong? What do you mean by wrong?" Molly asked, fidgeting on the bed.

Sherlock blinked rapidly, looking down at the bed before stumbling into a response "I.. overheard a conversation." He looks to her, "On the phone... when I was looking for him, and he may have seen that I eavesdropped. I also may have offended him-"

"Oh. I don't think he would be offended because you overheard one of his phone calls." Molly interrupted before Sherlock could finish. She sat up a little bit straighter on the bed, now fully awake.

"I meant my comment bout his prejudices." Sherlock elaborated, fidgeting, "And the phone call did get rather heated..."

"Oh... What was the phone call about?"

"He was speaking to his parents, I believe.."

"God... not the best phone call to listen in too." Molly mutters, picking up her phone that was sitting on her bedside table. She began to text John to see if he is awake. "At least I can understand why he might be a little bit... off with you because of it."

"Yes, I was... wondering about that." Sherlock says nervously.

(Mon 06:07)  
You realise it's six in the morning? -JW

(Mon 06:08)  
Yes but French boy has just disturbed my sleep so I thought I would disturb yours –MH

"Yeah. He doesn't really have the best relationship with his parents." Molly replied.

(Mon0 6:09)  
Not like I was sleeping, anyway. What does he want? -JW

(Mon 06:11)  
Y weren't u sleeping? To talk about u. -MH

Sherlock looks to her earnestly, fiddling with his fingers, "I got that from the conversation... what should I do?"

"I honestly don't know. He doesn't like to talk to me about it let alone anyone else. It's probably best to leave it alone and only confront it if he talks to you about it."Molly answered, looking around the room awkwardly. She had a strange guy sitting on her bed. No, a strange, very good looking guy sitting on her bed. Probably would not be good if her parents walked in and saw them sitting there...

(Mon 06:13)  
About me? –JW

(Mon 06:14)  
Yes. He overheard u on the phone yesterday. Want to tell me about it? -MH

Sherlock bites his lip, rising now, running a hand through his messy curls again, some falling over his eyes, "Right, I'll just... think it over. And go... thank you. I will... take your advice. Yes."

Molly awkwardly smiles at him. "Yes, of course. We need to be out of the house by 7:30 to take the tube to school so you might want to get dressed soon."

(Mon 06:20)  
Oh. Right. That. –JW

(Mon 06:21)  
Are you going to tell me what you were arguing about? -MH

He nods, about to leave before he stops. "About my brother-"

"It's fine. He's just protective. I get it." Molly states, deciding to get out of bed so that she can sort out her bag before school.

(Mon 06:23)  
The usual stuff. Anniversary party.- JW

(Mon 06:24)  
So why did you end up arguing with them? -MH

"How did you... contact him?" Sherlock asked.

Molly put her bag down on her desk in order to turn around to face Sherlock again. "I didn't call him. He called me while we were at the airport waiting for you."

(Mon 06:26)  
Something like that. -JW

(Mon 06:27)  
What r u hiding from me? -MH

Sherlock seemed to tense. "What did he say?"

Molly sat down at her desk, still facing Sherlock. "He just asked me to keep an eye on you and to report to him if you do anything... dangerous."

(Mon 06:230)  
Nothing. What would I hide from you? –JW

(Mon 06:30)  
A lot of things. U have only just spoken to me about ur problems at home. -MH

A muscle seemed to jump at his jaw, he looked away, "So he finally left the buffet table long enough to call someone. Charming."

Molly grinned at him for a few seconds before her lips tried to straighten but failed. Then she couldn't control her laughter. "You really seem to love your brother." She stated, in between giggles.

(Mon 06:35)  
That basically covers it. JW

(Mon 06:35)  
Why were u arguing with your parents then? -MH

"I will... go get ready..." Sherlock says as he turns around to exit the room.

"Ok. Remember to be ready by 7:30." Molly says.

Sherlock turned around to face Molly, giving her a small smile, one hand on the doorknob, the other in his dressing gown pocket.

(Mon 06:37)  
Anniversary. Told you. JW

(Mon 06:38)  
And that means that u have to argue with them. Why? -MH

Sherlock nodded, slipping into his room.

Molly stayed seated on her desk chair, texting John for a bit, not wanting to get changed out of her warm pyjamas just yet.

(Mon 06:40)  
Something to do with Harry. JW

(Mon 06:40)  
Look, I'll see you in school. JW

(Mon 06:41)  
I expect u tell me more about it when I get there. –MH

After Molly took a good 20 minutes getting herself ready for school, she adventuring downstairs to get some food.

Sherlock appeared from the kitchen as Molly arrived in the kitchen. His hair was looking no better and he had nothing in his hands although he had just been in the kitchen... he pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down.

"You might want to brush your hair or, put your hand through it or... something. It looks quite... disheveled." Molly said, sitting down at the table opposite Sherlock with a bowl of cereal in her hands.

Sherlock made a sort of twitch, but offered no other comment.

They silently sat there with the only noises heard being music from the radio and Molly chewing on her cornflakes. Molly realised that there was no point in trying to make small talk with him as she had been informed the previous night that he never wasted his time doing such a pathetic thing when he could be keeping his brain active.

After 5 minutes of silence, Molly's parents (finally) came down the stairs, dressed and ready for work.

"Good morning."William Hooper said cheerily, walking into the kitchen to put some toast on for himself and his wife. "Molly, remember that I have left Sherlock's tube ticket on the cabinet in the hall."

"Morning and yes, Dad I do remember you telling me that." Molly replied, finishing off the last of her cereal and put it into the sink to be washed.

"Good morning." Sherlock says politely, before arching an eyebrow at Molly, puzzled.

Molly stared back at Sherlock, raising her eyebrows at him in answer to his unspoken question.

"Good morning Sherlock." William replied, taking the toast out of the toaster and buttering both slices before going over to the table where the children are sitting. "Did you get a good night sleep, Sherlock?"

"Yes I did, thank you for asking."

"Good..." William responded, passing a slice of toast to his wife while he takes a bite of his.

Patricia took it, smiling as she went about her morning routine.

Sherlock nods, in the interest of being polite, still not eating anything.

"Come on Sherlock. We'd better get going otherwise we'll be late." Molly called out to him as she left the dining table and went back upstairs to get her bag. She returned 30 seconds later with her bag and school jumper in her hand and then she went over to the cabinet in the hall to pick up her keys and Sherlock's tube pass.

Sherlock appeared as he was, having not made any changes, except for picking up his shoulder bag that was sitting in the hall.

"Here's your tube card." Molly said as she handed over the card. "Please keep it safe because if you lose it then my dad will kill me."

Sherlock raised a brow, "I will see to it that you are kept alive, then."

"Good, because I actually want to do my A levels and go to university, you know?" Molly said smiling at Sherlock so he understands that she is playing with him.

Sherlock mouth twitched into a grin.

They begin their journey to school by walking to the nearest tube station which was a 10 minute walk away from Molly's house. When they got there, they swiped their tube cards on the electric gates and went to the platform that Molly goes to every morning in order to get the right tube.

Once they got on the tube there was no pressure to talk. They just sat there opposite each other, doing their own thing, occasionally catching each other's eyes. Minutes ticked by until Molly's eyes locked with Sherlock's. Was he meant to say something? Make meaningless conversation? But he didn't want to say something that would hurt her. He always seemed to do that without even meaning to.

Luckily, the tube stopped at their stop, forcing Molly and Sherlock to go to school.

After they took the five minute walk from the tube station, they arrived at Molly's school. They saw John standing by the school gate, head down low, bag slung across his shoulders.

"Hey!" Molly called from across the road.

John turned around at the sound of Molly's voice, subconsciously tugging the cap down so that the flap covered most of his forehead and eyes.

Unfortunately, John's attempt to hide his face doesn't work and as Molly walks towards him she looked at the bruise once, removed the cap, throwing it onto the floor before all her features turn horrified. "What the fuck happened to you?" she asked gently taking his face in her hands to examine his cheek.

John looked away. "Hit my face opening a cupboard." he said gruffly.

"Hit your face on a cupboard, my arse. First you tell me that you didn't get any sleep and then you come into school with a bruise on your face. What the hell happened?" Molly asked, moving John's face so that she can look at the bruise from a different angle.

The discolouration was around his eye, dark purple in the centre, getting lighter as the bruise got wider. His whole eye was swollen and puffy- it was lucky that he could still open and close his eye with the amount of swelling.

"Looks like he got punch by someone who is... left handed." Sherlock interrupted from behind Molly. He was staring at John's face, more specifically his bruised eye but quickly averted his gaze so that he was now looking at Molly.

John threw him a sharp look. "It was late, I headed down to the kitchen for a snack and hit my face with the cupboard. Come on, we're going to be late."

"I don't care if we are going to be late John Hamish Watson. I want to know what happen to your face before we go into school!" Molly shouted, very angry at the state that her best mate's face. What the hell had happened to him?

"Molly, let it go." John sighed, reaching up to touch the bruise but winced as pain flooded out from the bruise and spread outwards , "Honestly, please. Don't make a fuss."

"MAKE A FUSS. MAKE A BLOODY FUSS. I AM ALLOWED TO MAKE A FUSS WHEN MY BEST FRIEND TURNS UP TO SCHOOL LOOKING LIKE HE HAS HAD 4 ROUNDS WITH MIKE FUCKING TYSON!"" Molly shouted getting angrier (if possible) after John tried to calm her down with meaningless words.

"Molly you're making a scene." Sherlock whispered to Molly squeezing her arm to get her full attention. "Why don't we find somewhere where you can talk, privately."

John looked reluctant, glancing around at the people shooting looks their way, "Look, we'll talk, okay?" He sighs "Just please, don't. I don't need the attention, or your anger. Please, Molls. Calm down."

Molly putt her face in her hands, so that the boys couldn't see a lone tears fall down her face. After a few deep breaths and a few silent sobs, she calm down enough to remove her hands from her face to speak. "Ok." She muttered quietly, swallowing down the tears that threatened to fall. She just didn't like seeing John like this and hoped she would never see him like it again.

John reached for her, wrapping an arm around her back. "Hey." He says, lowly, "I'm okay. It's just a bruise, it'll heal."

"Yeah but it's not just a bruise. You're not telling me the full truth." Molly quietly muttered into John's shirt as she placed her head on his shoulder.

While all of this was happening, Sherlock watched the pair. It was obvious, even for him, that they were particularly close, not like friends more like siblings. Sherlock had once done a study on siblings to see if it was just he and Mycroft were the only siblings who didn't get along. It wasn't. After finding out that a large percentage of siblings don't get along, he found out that a girl who had an older brother had the best relationship with her brother than if she had an older sister or a younger brother instead. Even though Molly and John were not related this was the case with them.

They argued, but they always made up in the end. They cared for each other in a way that wasn't because they had to, but because it was ingrained in them to. And they had a playful and teasing way of talking to one another.

Personally he would have preferred it if he could just walk away because he, himself was not accustomed to seeing two people get along so well when he couldn't even make one friend, but he couldn't just disappear. He had no idea where he was.

"I know... I'll tell you soon, okay? I... don't feel ready to tell you now, but I will." John promised, looking away from Molly's tear stricken face. "You've probably guessed, already..."

"I've got a pretty good idea and if I'm right, I don't think I will be able to come over to your house again without going berserk." Molly admitted, turning around to see Sherlock looking at them but he quickly turned around to look at the school.

John gives her a tight smile. "I wouldn't want you around my house either, really. Look, let's just forget about it, and head to class."

Molly looks back at John and returns his smile. "As long as you promise to tell me as soon as possible."

John nods, "I do..." he forces a smile now, "Come on, the girls are waiting."

"Ok.." Molly replied as she follows John, grabbing onto Sherlock wrist so that she doesn't lose him in the morning rush that occurs in the entrance hall.

Sherlock flinches when he feels a small hand wrap around his wrist. He thinks about pulling away but decides not to. He needs to start acting normal if he wants people to like him, not that people hating him usually bothers him because it doesn't. But he wants someone, anyone to actually like him for once and not call him a freak.

John moved down the hallway, pushing past people, offering occasional smiles and waves at people who interacted with him.

Molly gripped on Sherlock's wrist tightly just in case someone ran into them and separated the pair. She really didn't want to lose him again... She led Sherlock down to their locker room where a few people stared at them as they walked in, noticing the new student before continuing to talk to their mates (probably about Sherlock). She let go of his wrist before walking all the way down to the bottom of the locker room where her locker was located.

Sherlock follows Molly all the way down to the bottom of what he is presuming is her locker room before stopping next to a row of lockers. He watched as Molly opened her lock, plucked some books off of the top shelf before turning around to start talking to her friends. A few of said friends come up to Sherlock introduce themselves but most of them watched him from where they were huddling around Molly.

As Molly talked to her friends, John opened his locker, stuffing his own belongings in, looking at the floor so that people wouldn't see his face. His football mates and a few of the popular girls swarm him but he doesn't pay them any mind, clearly distracted so they eventually, one by one moved back to their own lockers to get ready for class. Once everyone had left John alone, he allowed himself to disappear in the crowd, despite his popularity among both his football mates and the girls in his year.

He skulked around in a bathroom, yearning for some privacy. If he wasn't such a good friend to Molly, he'd cut class, but he knew it would only cause her to worry further, and his studies were important to him... especially since he wanted to get into medical school. He only had a week left of school- it wasn't worth missing one day when the holidays were quickly approaching.

Luckily for Sherlock, after 5 minutes of constant chatter (during which Sherlock had sat down on a bench deciding to look through his emails instead of listening to the girly chatter), the bell rang and they all had to go to class. Everyone suddenly surged out of the locker room on the sound of the bell heading to morning registration.

"I'm sorry about them lot." Molly whispered into Sherlock's ear as they were going up to her form room. "I know they're a little bit... excited but it's only cus you're around. They all want to empress you."

"You might want to tell them that shouting really loudly about their resent... sexual encounters, doesn't really empress me." Sherlock replied, following Molly up the main stairs and into a big classroom.

They quickly walked into the classroom and sat near to the front of the classroom as only a few seats left. The teacher got on with the register once they were settled down, adding Sherlock and a French student to the end of the register.

John arrived after the register had been done, hair ruffled up, looking worse than he did this morning. He quickly apologised to the teacher before sitting down in the only seat left in the classroom.

"Where were you?" Molly asked as John put his bag under the table.

John shrugs, "Bathroom."

The teacher spoke up before Molly could say another word to John, announcing that they had to go down to assembly. Everyone slowly got up from their seats, not wanting to go to assembly and miss crucial gossiping time.

Molly remained silent in assembly, not wanting to get told off by the teachers, but still desperate to talk to John. The assembly was brief with a quick mention of the new French exchange student before carrying on the normal assembly procedure. They all filed out somewhat noisily, before returning to the form room and heading off to their first period class.

It was then that John felt Molly catch his arm, stopping him.

"John, you're starting you worry me. Usually you would spend the whole of registration talking to your mates but you haven't said a single word to anyone since you stepped inside the building." Molly said, keeping a firm grip on John's arm in case he tried to get away which was highly likely to happen.

John did indeed try to yank away. "I spoke to you." He muttered.

"You lied to me and it means that whatever happened was bad, really bad. Judging by how you're acting today, it was defiantly worst than the lie you told me." Molly stated, looking at John straight in the eyes, hoping that he might see the pleading in her eyes and give in.

"There isn't much to tell."

"It doesn't matter if it 'isn't much to tell'. What ever happened has hurt you, badly. You really should talk about it. Get it off your chest." Molly advised. ****

"We'll miss class-"

"Lunchtime then."

John gives her a false smile. "Sure."

Molly smiles back. She trusted that he would tell her... eventually. "Good."

John finally manages to free his arm from Molly's lethal grip. "I'm off to class, then." He said before starting to walk down the corridor.

Molly reluctantly lets her grip on his arm loosen as she had to let him get to class. "What do you have next?" she calls out to him.

"Biology."

"Have fun." Molly says smiling back at John before entering the classroom and coming face to face with Sherlock Holmes. Damn she totally forgot about him.

"Sorry about leaving you, again! It's just John... he's acting weird and I don't know what to do about it." Molly said, picking up her bag from underneath a table and leading Sherlock towards the chemistry labs.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "I could tell you everything you wanted to know, right now. It's there, in plain sight."

"Ok then." Molly announces, stopping in the middle of the corridor, raising her eyebrows at Sherlock and crossing her arms across her chest. "Tell me everything that you know about what happened to John last night."

"Like I said before, punched, by a left handed person. John went straight home last night because if he had got beaten up on his way home he wouldn't be here but at the police station being interviewed. You yourself pointed out his rough relationship with his parents since his sister came out, it should be self explanatory from there. But he's considering something, as well. Thinking, maybe? Though I have yet to figure out what it is."

"So you think his parents did this to him?" Molly asks, raising her eyebrows at him. Molly didn't know what the hell was happening. Before Harry came out, she would have never thought that John's parents would have it in them to kick their only daughter out of their family home because she liked girls. They always seemed like loving parents who loved their children with all their hearts and would give them anything they wanted but now... now she didn't know what to think of them. For all she knew John's parents could have hit John and that's what scared her the most... What if they did it again...

Sherlock hums, "I'm guessing father, though it's just a stereotype... mother probably allowed it to happen, rather than contributed to the violence..."

Molly lets her hands fall to her side. "His mother would never let anything like that happen to John... she just... wouldn't. But John's dad... he can have a bit of a temper but that's only when John gets a bad grade or something. He's never... been violent towards him."

"I believe in their eyes, arguing with them and expressing homosexual tendencies surpasses bad grades." Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow, "What happens when he gets a bad grade?"

"His parents just tell him that he can't hang out with me for a bit because he has to revise." Molly replied, hugging her arms around herself. "Wait a minute. How did you guess that he was... gay?"

"What?" Sherlock looked throughly confused, "I just assumed from the conversation he had on the phone that showing support for his sister, who apparently is gay, would count as such."

"Damn." Molly muttered under her breath. She wasn't meant to tell anyone that. John would kill her. So, she quickly walked away, pretending that she didn't just out her best friend.

Sherlock is blinking, trying to process what he just heard before following her down the corridor, seeming to be deep in thought.

When they reach the lab door, as everyone had already entered Molly decided to stop and turn around, stopping Sherlock from going in there immediately. "Please don't tell John what I just said. HE. WILL. KILL. ME."

Sherlock frowns, but nods, "Yes, I can see why."

"Good. Well that's agreed." Molly stated, turning around to finally entering the laboratory.

The first five lessons went by without any problems. Molly did what she normally did in lessons but tried to make sure that Sherlock was ok with what they are learning because not only is he in a different country but he also may have never learnt about some of the subjects that she was doing for A levels.

However Sherlock just stared at Molly when she asked him if he understood what the teacher was talking about. Of course he understands. He learnt all of this... boring stuff when he first went into secondary school so he really didn't need to learn about it all over again. So, instead of listening, he sat there utterly bored, flicking through Molly's textbook as there was nothing better to do.

John was waiting for them by the benches when the lunch bell rang, his eyes scanning his textbook, hurriedly, making quick notes here and there on a lined notebook.

"Hey." Molly called out to John, flinging her bag onto the table before heading off to get into the queue for food.

John looked over at her, before turning back to his book. He noticed Sherlock lingering, feeling the heat of his gaze on him as he worked.

Sherlock decided that he didn't need any food yet as he had a large dinner the previous night and Molly's parents will probably make him eat at dinner time. He sat down on the same table as John but sat opposite to him so that he could watch what he was doing.

John glanced up at him, curiously.

"What?" Sherlock asked rather rudely.

John snorts. "You're the one staring."

"I was observing, there's a difference." Sherlock stated, continuing to stare.

"Right..." John decided he was in no mood to argue, returning his gaze back to his books.

"Is that your own textbook?" Sherlock asked, referring to the book that he kept looking at that was on the table.

"Yeah..." John glanced up at him again, scratching the back of his ear.

Sherlock took hold of the textbook so that he could show John why he asked him if it was his book. "You don't need to make notes. That will just waste your time and energy when really you should be trying to focus on committing the information to your mind. Skim through the text book and highlight key words and anything that would possibly come up in a test. Then anything that will help you to understand the information that you have highlighted, write in the margins but write it in shorthand." Sherlock shows exactly what he means by picking up John pencil case, taking out a highlighter, highlighting a key phrase and writing "cell division- mitosis" next to the highlighted information.

John looked at him, before nodding, giving him a small, genuine smile. "That's really interesting, thank you."

"You're welcome." Sherlock muttered, turning around briefly to see Molly walking towards them with a tray full of food and a bunch of people behind her. So far, Sherlock had managed to stay away from any social interaction with strangers as he was trying not to show Molly up but it seemed that he would have to conquer that hurdle in the next minute or so.

Molly walked over to the table, setting her tray down on the table and took a seat next to John. "Sherlock, I got you a choice of fruit so you WILL eatat least one piece before we leave this table." Molly stated as some of her friends put their tray down on the table and took the seats next to her.

John was forced to make conversation, putting his book away so that they weren't in the way and began to talk to Molly's friends, who seemed to always want to maintain eye contact with him.

Sherlock picked up a banana, trying to keep Molly as happy as possible because she didn't seem to be reacting very well to John's recent injury. He actually paid attention to the conversation that Molly friends were having, unsure of most of their names despite the fact that they had introduced themselves to him as they sat down. "Uhm... you... what's your name?"

"Mark." The black haired boy replied.

"You do realise that it's not your fault that your dog died so you might want to cheer up a bit." Sherlock said, taking another bite of his banana.

John looked up, suddenly interested in the conversation as he rested his chin on his hand.

"What the fuck?" Another boy at the table laughs disbelievingly.

"Well, you have been looking at your phone a lot while listening to the conversation, not because you are waiting for a text, you would need to unlock the phone to do that but because your lock screen is a photo of you and your dog. He's obviously dead because you don't have any hairs on your clothes as he wasn't there this morning to jump up and deposit his hairs on you. However you feel like it's your fault because he ingested some chocolate and then got ill. It had to be your chocolate because you seem to have quite an obsession with chocolate." Sherlock says as he looks at the three bars of chocolate on his tray. "But you shouldn't feel guilty. You should just forget about it otherwise you, only you will suffer in the long run."

The boy who spoke up before threw another look at his friend (the one who's dog had died) who was now rising, "What kind of fucking magic trick is this?" he demanded. "It's fucked up."

John reached for him, sighing. "Sit down, Daniel."

"It's not a magic trick. You over there. The one with the short blonde hair. You have 2 hamsters, a brother and a sister both younger. You like that boy over there but he doesn't like you and refuses to be seen with you." Sherlock said pointing at a boy across the room. "Then the girl with the long brunette hair. Your parents are very strict- they rarely let you go round to over people's houses as they want you to spend every moment revise for your upcoming A levels but you go out clubbing with your mates every... Saturday night because you want to rebel against your parents. You, yes you, you have a secret lover who lives in... New Zealand. Does anyone else want to be deduced?"

Murmuring was heard, a few people had risen, looking quite upset.

"Freak!" Came the first call, and there was a quiet agreement, a ripple through the crowds.

John turned to Molly, "Get him out of here. Now."

Molly grabbed her tray and deposited all of her food into the bag before grabbing Sherlock's wrist and pulling him out of the hall. Sherlock followed, immediately, letting Molly drag him out of the lunch hall. She took him into the empty locker room so that she could talk to him without any interruptions because most of the students were at lunch or playing sports.

"I'm so sorry about them lot. They shouldn't have been that rude despite how rude you were to them. They defiantly shouldn't have called you a freak." Molly commented, putting her bag on the bench and sitting down.

"I just... I can't control what I say. I have all this stuff going around in my head and I just blurt it out sometimes when it gets too much. I don't mean to be rude or obnoxious or annoying or whatever they want to call me, I just can't help it I suppose." Sherlock apoligised, taking a seat next to Molly.

John arrived into the locker room, panting. "We have to go!' He tells them, forcing them up, "Come on, Molls."

"What!" Molly exclaimed, rising up off the bench. "What did you say to them? Where are we going?"

"I just told them that they shouldn't be so horrible...I don't know, we just need to get out of here..."

"Ok." Both Sherlock and Molly said at the same time, following John out of the locker room.

John started to run down the corridor, slowing down when he caught sight of a teacher up ahead.

"Why are we running?" Sherlock asked, running next to them, totally unaware as to where they were or where they were going.

"It's really for the best." John panted, ducking down another corridor.

"I don't think anyone is going to egg us." Molly stated, following John and holding onto Sherlock wrist so she wouldn't lose him. He didn't know his way round the school so that could possibly happen.

"Hopefully..." John pushed open the door to a class room. "Don't worry about them. They're all pricks."

"Hopefully? Hopefully!" Molly repeated, pausing once they got into the classroom. "John, please don't say you said something to them and made it worst."

"They'll get over it." John dismisses. "It's better here, anyway."

"Yeah much better, we're hiding in a classroom John!" Molly exclaimed starting to pace around the classroom.

John shrugs. "At least it's quiet." He glanced over at Sherlock, wondering how he is dealing with all this. He was rather quiet for someone who had just been forced out of the lunch hall and called names in front of the entire school.

While the pair was talking, Sherlock just stood around, looking kind of shocked about the whole situation. No one had ever stayed around with him after that happened and he... liked it. "This happens a lot. I don't want to ruin your friendships. Go back to them, have fun."

John shook his head. "Like I said, they're pricks. They can be cool when they want to be but sometimes..." He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, right Molly?"

"Yeah course. The girls will be fine once I speak to them." Molly said placing a hand on Sherlock'shoulder.

"I can knock some sense into the rest of them." John shrugged. "You shouldn't give a shit anyway. Forget them."

"Ok." Sherlock muttered, sitting down at one of the desks.

"Now, YOU." Molly says as she points at John, "You have to tell me what happened. You promised me you would."

John shifted nervously. "Now? We were just running..."

"Yes, now." Molly answered, crossing her arms across her chest. "We're alone so you don't have to worry about saying wrong in front of the others."

John glanced at Sherlock but let it slide. Sherlock probably already knew what happened the previous night. "Uhm... My parents and I fought... and it got a bit out of hand." he gave her a bitter smile, running his hands through his short hair.

Molly caught John's glance at Sherlock but dismissed it as Sherlock already knew that John and his parents don't get along. "Out of hand?"

"You know what it means, Molly. Don't make me say it." John gave her a pained look.

Molly stood there for a minute, not saying a word, trying to take in what John was implying. His parents had... hurt him... on purpose. "You should have come round as soon as it happened." Molly said to John walking towards him so that she could take hold of his hands. He needed all the support that she could give him.

John squeezed her hands, giving her a lopsided smile. "They had the place on lockdown... I know I should have called but... there was a lot going on. It was only one hit. I'm fine."

"You should have jumped out of your bloody bedroom window." Molly stated, looking at him intensely.

"On the second floor?" John gave her a rueful smile, "I'd break my leg."

Molly knew she was being a little bit insane thinking that John could have jumped out of his window unharmed but she didn't want him to get hurt again. "It's better than staying at home, not knowing what was going to happen."

John gave her a grim smile, "It wasn't so bad... I mean... they left afterwards, locked me in my room..I didn't think they were coming back."

"Locked you in your room and left you there!" Molly practically screams, starting the pace across the length of the classroom. "You can't go back there tonight, you're staying at mine!"

John sighed, "Molly, we know that's not possible..." He stands, moving to stop here, "Look, I think most of the storm has passed..."

"I don't care if the fucking storm has passed, you're not going back there!" Molly demanded, moving away from John so that she could continue to pace around.

Sherlock was still sitting on the desk when he decided to interrupt their little conversation. "I agree with Molly. I don't think you should go back there. Statistically once a parent has hit their child for the first time, they are 75% more likely to hit them again." John had protected him from the name calling in the lunch hall so he would defend John from his parents. That's what friends do, right?

John sighs, shoulders drooping. "I know, but..." He licks his lips. "It's not that simple. They'll come round looking for me, they'll find me at your house and it will be even worse... Honestly, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked.

"I am." John says, "There's nothing for it... I'll be fine."

"Fight back if anything happens or I won't be very happy with you." Molly threatened.

John rewarded her with a smile. "Yes ma'am." he didn't have the heart to tell her that it would probably have made things worse. So much worst.

Molly laughed, briefly hugging John before going over to her bag to check that she had all of the books that she needed for her next lessons. "If you won't stay over tonight then we have to do something on Friday... We should go clubbing to take your mind off of all this crap."

John nodded, "I can do that." he tried to flash her an easy grin.

"Wahay!" Molly shouted, doing a little dance on the spot.

"Do we have to drink?" Sherlock asked, hoping that the answer would be no. He found out one Christmas party two years ago that he hated alcohol. It made his mind his mind go all weird and he really didn't like the feeling.

John shrugged, "You don't have to..." he laughed, "This is the first time I've seen you so excited about clubbing!"

"Good." Sherlock mutters as Molly goes out about the plans for Friday night. From what Sherlock could hear of Molly's ramblings, it looked like they would be spending the whole evening going to different clubs in order 'to give Sherlock a good experience of what they do at the weekend'. It did not sound like fun to Sherlock who would prefer to spend the evening alone in his room. John seemed excited, chipping in here and there, eager to get his mind off his family troubles.

But despite Sherlock's reluctance, Friday came all too soon, and found them in a club with all of Molly and John's friends. Sherlock had apologised to all of Molly and John's friends the day after the incident in the lunch room, most of them accepting his apology straight away. So, they all said that they would go out clubbing to celebrate finishing the first year of their A levels.  
John arrived with a few of his football mates after taking 20 minutes to get ready. His home situation had not improved or gotten worst, but he was no longer feeling down about it especially when he surrounded by the pulsing music of the club. He noticed Sherlock, looking rather apprehensive, and decided to sidle up to him- the whole reason was to bring him here for the experience after all.

"Hey."

"Hello." Sherlock greeted John with a pleasant smile.  
John smiled back at him, "Looking to have a good time?"  
"Not really."Sherlock replied, looking around the club before taking a slip of his cola.  
"Not your kind of thing, huh?"  
"It's all... noise and... people and... uh. I just don't enjoy my senses being overloaded to the point that I can't think." Sherlock replied with utter disgust in his voice.  
"That's part of the appeal."  
"Appeal!" Sherlock repeated looking extremely shocked. "There's appeal in going to a place like this?"  
John shrugged, "I like it well enough, at times."  
"But doesn't it give you a headache? It's giving me one and I have only been here for 20 minutes."  
John gave him a wry smile, "Headaches aren't the worst things you can possibly get, you know?" He sipped his drink- a vodka and coke, before putting it back don on the table next to Sherlock's.  
"You are joking, right? Thinking is my life and therefore if something renders me incapable of doing so, there is no point in me living." Sherlock snapped.  
John was taken aback for a moment by his tone. "Alright..." He let the word settle. "We are different then, okay?"  
"Yes. Very different indeed." Sherlock muttered, looking around the club to see if he can spot Molly and her friends. He felt like he owed it to Molly to buy her friends some drinks after his behaviour on Monday.  
John seems to wither at that, as does their conversation.  
"Why are you bothering to talk to me?"Sherlock suddenly asked/  
"Because I want to."  
"But why?"  
"I dunno... I mean, yeah, you're kind of... different and a bit rude but that's better than being one of the jocks or one of the nerdy lot. I just have the feeling that if I got to know you better, you'd be... cool. And so far, I've been totally right."  
Sherlock snorted. "So... what are we meant to do here?"  
"Dance."  
"Dance? What, to like hip hop music?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrows at John before looking at the dance floor to where people were dancing to the music.  
"Yeah..."  
"Isn't that... dangerous?" Sherlock asked, still looking at the people who were attempting to dance.  
John raises an eyebrow, "How?"  
"All that sudden, random movement. You could easily knock someone out if you lifted your arm in front of you whilst dancing." Sherlock pointed out, demonstrating how one would do so.  
John seemed to flinch, if only a little, at his raised arm, before shaking his head, "I guess... it makes them feel good. Accidents happen I'm sure but it's hardly intentional, or the injury is never quite lasting."  
Sherlock puts his arm back down when he notices John flinch slightly. No sudden movements then. "Theoretically, it would be a good way to murder someone. One fatal blow to the skull and they would be dead. The police would just suspect that they fell over while intoxicated and the mixture of the two killed them." Sherlock informed.  
"Death by dancing." John chuckled, "Why, I never..."  
Sherlock chuckled with John, taking another sip of his drink to try and stop himself from laughing however this only makes him splutter. Usually people would find it weird that he mentioned death at such a random moments but John... he didn't seem to care. He found it funny.  
John reached over, patting his back, 'Hey, breathe..."  
"Of course I am trying to breathe, John. I would die if I didn't." Sherlock stated abruptly before realising how rude that sounded. He wasn't used to people being nice to him and John was only trying to help. "Sorry." He muttered, smiling as he finally calmed down from his coughing spree.  
John smiled back at him. "I like your sense of humour." They were close, and the club music made his heart pound in a nice, relaxing way. It was dark, and they were touching... he could feel Sherlock's skin beneath his thin shirt, feel the beating of his heart...  
Sherlock noticed the proximity of their bodies and the intimacy of the position. He looked at John straight in the eyes, his piercing eyes that glisten in the light, and subconsciously wet his top lip, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds before releasing it. He could hardly draw in the next breath because John's caring eyes were searching his face and heat was radiating from John's body and... there was a connection. A real connection. Deep down beneath Sherlock's awkward interactions and John's hidden emotions. "I like yours too. I don't think I have laughed so much in my whole life as I have over the past few days and that's all down to you."  
John gives him a winning smile, his eyes twinkling, "I'm glad..." he seemed drawn to the other man's lips as well, leaning forward almost unconsciously now.  
Sherlock didn't realise what was happening but Sherlock did feel instantly attracted to him, not only because he was a very good looking boy who made him laugh but also because he stood up for him when he didn't have to. However most of the girls in John's year also found him very attractive. All week they flocked around him, wanting a piece of him everywhere he went. He was the football star that they all wanted to date. Even though he wasn't interested in any of them, he was always so kind to them and that's why he asked him for some girl advice so he didn't piss them off again. "I was just wondering, how do you get on so well with girls? All I seem to do is annoy them and then they end up slapping me. "  
John moved his body back so that he was out of Sherlock's face, looking a touch disappointed, but offered an easy smile, "I don't know... I guess... don't deduce them straight away? Offer to do so, and continue if they say yes...They'll like it, I'm sure."  
Sherlock noticed the change in John straight away but didn't think anything of it. Maybe he wasn't John's type. It didn't matter. He wasn't looking for a relationship. He didn't need sentiment ruling his life. "Ok, so don't deduce unless they say that I can... Any other advise?"  
John smiled a little, trying to decide if he should be totally honest with him. "I think you put too much pressure on yourself and then you end up saying the wrong things in order to impress everyone. No one has a scorecard and no one is judging you. If you go out there and be yourself, you'll be fine."  
"I suppose that is a good deduction... I am not used to being myself though. My brother always used to tell me that if I wanted to make friends, I shouldn't be myself because I would scare them off..."  
"That's a bit harsh. Don't listen to him. I can tell that you're being yourself with me and this conversation is going fine."  
"Thanks. I think that might actually work."  
Just as Sherlock finished speaking, someone approaches their table, leaning forward so that he could see who is sitting there. "John? I thought it was you! You didn't contact me so thought that you might have dropped off the face of the earth!" The man said as he smiled at John.  
John froze, before smiling back at him, warmly, "Hey, Damien! Sorry, I've been really busy, you know how it is..." He stood up to embrace him.  
Damien let John embrace him, squeezing him a little as the embrace went on. "Yeah it's fine. I just... I enjoyed that night...I thought we could arrange another night out soon."  
John's smile grew, "What say we dance then we can see what happens from there?"  
"Yes." Damien says quickly before looking at Sherlock who was now sitting watching them interact. "As long as you weren't already... busy."  
John glanced at Sherlock, giving him a little wave, "Go use the advice." he said, before smiling brightly at Damien, "No, never for you."  
Damien smiled back holding his hand out to John so that they could go and dance together whilst Sherlock walked over to a group of Molly's friends and started talking to them. Trying to forget about what just happened with John and his friend, Damien.

John began to dance with him on the dance floor, exactly the dance that Sherlock called dangerous, grinding, arms, the whole thing. He lost himself to the music, and before he knew it they were kissing, furiously, as if their lives depended on it.  
Damien copied John's every move in hope that he at the end of the night he might get very lucky. So when John kissed him passionately, furiously, totally, he lost every coherent thought and gave himself to John.  
John broke away, if only for a moment. "Do you have somewhere we can go?" He shouted over the music.  
"Of course." Damien replied, tugging John's hand as he tried to find the club's entrance.  
John prepared to go after him, letting himself be led. He needed this, as confused as he was, he needed this to wipe his mind so that he could forget about his problems at home. This was the perfect way to do so. He would go have furious, hard sex with a really attractive guy before returning home and sleeping for a month.  
Sherlock did not miss anything that happened between the pair. He tried to block John out of his mind but each time he managed to, John caught his attention again with the thrusting and sexy dancing. It was very distracting. He didn't understand why he kept focusing on the boy but then again, he still didn't understand why he became so close to Victor... that was a mistake.  
Molly sidled up to him, holding a drink in her hand, and an overly bright smile, "HHeyy!"  
Drunk. The word floated next to Molly as Sherlock looked at her as she came over. "Hello."  
She placed a hand on his arm, being too short to reach for his shoulder, "Having fun?" She giggled.  
Sherlock was having the complete opposite of fun, not really talking to anyone as they were all dancing and he couldn't even sit and go to his mind palace as his head hurt too much. He contemplated going home but he decided that Molly was too drunk to be left here with her mates as she might not be able to get home. "I think we should go home."  
"Whyyy?" Molly dragged out, "We're having fun? And Jawn? Where Jawn?"  
"Because you're drunk." Sherlock replied, taking hold of Molly wrist so that he could drag her out of the club. "He went off with a guy."  
Molly seemed to offer no resistance, "Ahhh... always, always."  
"Always?" Sherlock asked, quickly realising his mistake. He needed to stop being so focused on John. "I mean, does he do this a lot- pick up random people from clubs and go home with them? It's not very safe."

Molly shrugged, appearing not to think much of it in her drunken state, "Told him.."

"Maybe you should tell him again and buy him some... protection as well, to reinforce the idea." Sherlock muttered as they finally reached the entrance of the club. Sherlock was still holding onto Molly's wrist tightly so he pulled her to the side of the road so that he could hail a cab.

"It helps him... it helps him why should he stop?" Molly mumbles. "He has..."

"It's risky. All the infections that young people carry and then he goes and sleeps with loads of them." Sherlock stated, disgusted just at the thought of it.

Molly tries again to make her point, "He has... protection, whatchacallit.."

Luckily, a cab pulls up to the curb so Sherlock doesn't have to reply to Molly's last comment. Instead he opens the doors and pushes Molly gently into the cab before getting in himself. "34 Hollow Road." Sherlock said to the taxi driver.

Molly giggled to herself quietly, leaning on his shoulder.

Sherlock realised that it was going to be a very long journey as he felt her breathe on his shoulder and then a head on said shoulder. He took her head in his hands, moving his body so that she could be in a more comfortable position, placing her head back on his shoulder.

Molly mumbles something in her sleep, shifting closer.

25 minutes later, they both arrived back at Molly's house although Molly is still asleep. In the end Sherlock had to wake her up in order to get her out of the cab and into her house.

Molly stumbled in, eyes barely open, groping for the light switch.

"Here." Sherlock said as he put his hand over hers, moving it to the light switch so that they could switch it on.

Molly flinched at the light, finding it far too bright.

"Come on. Bed." Sherlock demanded, leading Molly to the stairs, carefully as she was heavily intoxicated. He thought that she of all people would know the risk of getting so drunk but she did have a rather hard week what with the worries that John's home situation brought to her life whilst having to look after him while he stayed at her house.

She nearly tripped on the stairs but luckily, Sherlock was standing right next he, catching her just in time. "Nnngh.." She groaned, holding onto Sherlock with all her might.

"Be careful." Sherlock warned, guiding her up the stairs and into her bedroom. He knew that Molly would be grateful in the morning, but at this point, she wasn't being very helpful. There was no way that he was going to get her unchanged... no way on earth.

Sherlock guided her to the bed, lifting the duvet partly off the bed so that Molly could get in. "I will bring you a drink and some pills for you to take in the morning but at the moment sleep it off."

Molly grumbled as she moved into her bed, letting Sherlock arrange the duvet around her, her hair fanning out on the pillow as her eyelids droop. She wriggled around for a bit, trying to get comfortable in her bed.

"Night." Sherlock whispered before placing a gently kiss on her forehead.

Molly's lips curved into a small smile as her eyes closed, with a sense of finality.

After Sherlock had placed the medication and water on her bedside table, he went downstairs to watch some TV as he didn't think that he would be able to sleep after the night that he had just had. He flicked through the TV channels before finally finding something pleasant to watch. It soon helped him drift into sleep however he was woken up five minutes later as an image of John's face, inches away from his came into his mind. After that, he didn't even try to get back to sleep instead watching a 3 hour film about cowboys.

John however, stumbled back home in the wee hours of the morning, his clothes rumpled, reeking of alcohol. He was drunk, and therefore not too careful as to where he was walking when he entered his house.

The house was silent, from what John's very drunk senses could tell him so he proceeded to the kitchen. He opened one of the cupboards and got a glass out, filling it with some cold water to relieve his headache. The cold water instantly soothed his sore throat and his throbbing headache so he sighed with relief.

Pleased with it, he set it down, only for it to slip to the ground, splitting into pieces with a loud smashing sound. For a moment he looked to it confusedly, with dazed comprehension.

Then everything happened.

Suddenly noise was heard from upstairs and lights in the house started to turn on as his parents woke up, going down stairs to investigate what was going on.

When his parents reached the kitchen, John's dad was holding a golf club in one of his hands while John's mother was holding a hairspray aerosol can.

John looked up at them confusedly, brows knitted together. Nothing as clicked yet.

Mrs Watson loosened her grip on the aerosol can, frowning now.

"Bloody hell, John. We thought you were burglar!" Mr Watson shouted as he lowered the golf club.

John just looked at them wide eyed.

"Where the hell were you?" Mr Watson asked, slowly losing his patience.

"Out." John answers stiffly, trying to move past them.

Mrs Watson frowned, putting her hands on her hips, "John!"

"John that is totally out of order. You can't simply stay out all night without telling us where you are and who you are with." Mr Watson said raising his voice.

"Except I can!"

"While you are living under my roof and I am working to keep you fed, you will do as you are told!"

""I'm an adult, I can do what I want!

"You're a sixteen year old boy with no money and no job and therefore no way of supporting yourself. That makes you a child."

"It does not! I can drink, I can have sex!"

"But since there is so much immorality, each man should have his own wife, and each woman her own husband- Corinthians 7:2"

John was in a bad mood, he had no want for their preachings thrown at him, "Well it's too late for me now, isn't it?" he snapped.

"So you were out sinning." Mr Watson stated. "Haven't we had enough of that over the past few weeks."

"What she did was not sin." John tried to lower his voice, starting to shake a little from anger, "What you did was!"

"If a man lies with a male as he lies with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination. They shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them- Leviticus 20:13." Mrs Watson mentioned.

John snorted, "For all I know, you could be a bible masquerading a man. Is that all you know how to do! Where is your compassion?"

Mrs Watson turned to her husband, shaking her head, showing her upset. It was her sign of telling her husband to do something to stop the actions of their child. It had gone too far now.

"You cannot and will not talk to me like that, young man!" Mr Watson shouted, walking towards John until he was merely a few centimetres away from his face. Mr Watson spat in John's face in hope that it would shut him up.

John recoiled at once, disgusted.

"You're awful." He says, his voice quivering. "You're awful, and you are going to burn in hell! God doesn't love people like you!"

Mr Watson grabbed John's wrist, squeezing it hard while saying, "God loves people like us because we save the human race. We don't go around preaching infidelity and homosexuality like you do. None of that's right and that's why the Bible tells us not to do it."

John tried to yank his wrist away, his face twisting. "I don't go imposing my ideas, turning out my own family... God hates the both of you!"

Mrs Watson let her voice ring out, sharp and shocked. "John Hamish Watson! How dare you!"

And then came the first punch. Hard and sudden. Long and painful.

John struggled to pull back now, crying out, his other hand going to his face.

Mrs Watson decided to leave, unable to stand the sight of violence, but not particularly willing to stop her husband either. Their son needed to be taught a lesson and violence seemed to be the only way to do so.

"Stop crying, boy and be more like a man." Mr Watson shouted as he hit his son again. This time his hand connected with John's nose with such power that there was a loud crack that filled the silence in the room.

John lets out a howl as blood spurts from his nose, unable to stop himself. It killed like nothing he had ever felt before. It was a sudden, piercing pain that spread throughout his nose and spread to his left cheek.

Ignoring the howl, Mr Watson went in for a third hit, letting his fist slam straight into the side of his son's face. Once he started he could barely contain his anger, hitting about a dozen times before his fists hurt so much that he had to use his feet to take his anger out on his son, hoping that this might teach his son not to think such traitorous things.

John started to cower, trying to protect every single part of him from abuse, shrinking away.

Finally Mr Watson stopped but only because he was too tired to carry on. He just walked away, leaving his son in the kitchen before he went back to sleep, feeling better for teaching his son a lesson because his behaviour couldn't carry on any longer. He wouldn't let any son of his go around thinking that being gay was fashionable and cool.

John for a moment stumbled over to the kitchen counter, breathing heavily. He swayed, his vision affected now, and everything just hurts, so badly. He struggles to the take the steps back to his room, whereupon he collapses on his bed, willing the tears and aches to go away.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning was exactly like every other morning that Sherlock had experienced while in England. It wasn't too cold but it wasn't the same temperature that he was used to over in France. He liked it.

He felt freer, more alive in England. Probably because his parents weren't there telling him to be more normal or his brother constantly telling him to be smarter.

As he woke up, still on the sofa with the TV on in front of him, he decided to make his way to the kitchen to make himself a strong cup of coffee. He really wasn't in a good mood today as for once, he was tired and wished that he could go back to bed and sleep for 24 hours. Sherlock hadn't gotten much sleep since he had arrived in England due to a mixture of jetlag and nerves. He was really started to like Molly and John with their simply friendship banter and amusing nicknames and he wished that he had friends like them back in France.

Molly came down the stairs, looking rather grumpy, empty glass in hand. "Thanks." She muttered to Sherlock, trying to express her gratitude, in her own way.

"It's alright." Sherlock replied, taking the glass from her before filling it up with some fresh orange juice. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungover." Molly groused, yawning now, and receiving the cup with a "Ta. You? Had a good night's rest?"

"I would be shocked if you didn't have a hangover with the amount of alcohol you consumed last night. And no, I didn't have a good night's sleep. My brain just wouldn't turn off." Sherlock muttered as he poured the hot water into his cup.

Molly seemed to pick up on that, leaning over the counter. "Oh? What kept you up? Or..." She teased. "Should I say who?"

"So, because I didn't get any sleep last night you assume that it was because someone kept me up?" Sherlock asked "I did tell you that sometimes I don't sleep and last night was one of those occasions."

"Yes, but the last time you woke me was because of John..."

"Yes... well that was... different."

Molly raised an eyebrow, "Different how?"

"I didn't wake you up this morning because of him, firstly." Sherlock began, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing.

"Secondly, before, I needed advice because I thought I had upset John but now... it's different."

Molly raised an eyebrow, after rolling her eyes, "Different how?"

"It just is, alright?"

"Could you elaborate, at least?"

"No."

Molly lets out a noise of frustration, "Why not?"

"Because it's stupid and awkward." Sherlock muttered into his cup of coffee.

"What is?"

"Elaborating."

"How come?" Molly badgered.

"Because I don't normally get along with people in the way that I have with you and John."

"So what's bothering you now and why John?"

"I feel like I am getting advice from an older sister." Sherlock muttered before turning to the matter at hand. "I am going to lay all my cards on the table for you and I will NEVER do it again so listen carefully." Sherlock took a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't really know exactly what it is that I am feeling but last night I definitely felt protective of John when that guy practically jumped onto him but I don't know why I felt that way. All I can think of is that you two are the only two people in my life that have ever stood up to people for me but at the same time you tell me off and tell me to apologise when I have done something wrong. Usually that would annoy me but with you two it's fine."

"You two are the closest thing to friends that I have ever had and that is probably why I felt like I had to protect John the same way that he protected me from your friends." Sherlock said all in one breath, the words tumbling out of his mouth, in a rush.

Molly smiled a little, 'That's... really nice, of you to say." She leaned forward now, sipping her drink, "John... well, it's what he wants, isn't it? Come hell or high-water, nothing will stop him.

Sherlock smiled at Molly not really sure what to say in reply to that. He finished off his coffee, put it into the washing up bowl in the sink and then made his way back out to the living room.

Molly joined him, "We could check up on John though, see if he got home alright."

"Yes. That's a good idea." Sherlock replied, taking a seat on the sofa.

Molly picked up her phone, and starts to dial. While she was on the phone, Sherlock just sat back and relaxed, closing his eyes so that he could go to his mind palace for a minute. He had so many different emotions going through him that he needed to put them into the Molly and John rooms so that he could look back at them later. At this moment, Mycroft would be telling him that caring is not an advantage, but he didn't care. For once he felt like he was wanted, like he had people looking after him, watching his back and it caused a pleasant feeling to spread throughout his body. All he wanted was friends and it looked like he not only had one, but two.

"He's not picking up." Molly frowned.

"Maybe he's still asleep?"

"It's 11 o'clock."

"He had a long night... Try again."

This time when Molly called, Sherlock sat up straight, watching and listening to Molly intensely.

Molly pursed her lips. "He's not picking up."

"So what are we meant to do now?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know... Maybe drop by his house and see? He could still be sleeping..."

"Do people usually go home to sleep after they have had sex?" Sherlock questioned, not being coy at all.

"Well..." Molly hesitates. "After a one night stand... Maybe..."

"Ok... well I have decided that I will never understand one night stands. Isn't sex meant to be special, not something that you run away from after the act has been done?"

Molly made a face, feeling rather awkward. "I guess... For some people... when they need a release...Should we go find John?"

Molly diverted the conversation swiftly, not quite comfortable with it's direction.

"Mmmm... Okay." Sherlock answered, getting up and going into the hall to find his coat. He realised that he was still wearing his clothes from the night before but it wasn't important. First they would find John, and then he would go and have a nice warm shower and change into some clean clothes.

"Does John live far away?" Sherlock asked, opening the door for Molly before going out himself.

"Not really." Molly said. "We could get a cab there."

"Okay," Sherlock replied, starting to walk towards the high street, which was luckily, just up the road from Molly's house. A cab came down the road immediately and Sherlock hailed it.

Molly climbed into cab, giving John's address to the driver.

Once they had climbed into the cab and were on their way, Sherlock spoke up. "Don't worry, Molly. He is probably just asleep and so hung-over that he didn't hear his phone in his sleep."

"I hope so..." Molly bit her lip, "I really hope so." Her fingers fidgeted on her lap, unable to keep them still.

"Why, what else could have happened to him?"

Molly shrugged, though she continued to look worried. After she found out that John's dad had hit him she had been on high alert, checking her phone before she went to bed incase he texted saying that it had happened again. But he had not texted her. Maybe he was alright then or maybe he was in such a bad state that he couldn't even call her... She started to bite her nails, getting herself into more of a panic as time went on.

After a few silent moments they finally arrived at a small semi detached house on a fair busy main house was medium sized but had a rather pretty garden, decorated with bright flowers and the greenest grass Sherlock had ever seen. He paid the driver before getting out, holding the door out for Molly, trying to be the gentlemen his parents had taught him to be.

Molly thanked him kindly as she got out, opening the gate to their garden, walking along the path before climbing the steps that led to the Watson house. But she waited for Sherlock to join her before ringing the bell, worried about might greet her on the other side of the door...

The door opened after the first ring. Mr Watson stood there behind the door as bold as brass.

"What do you want?" Mr Watson asked, his voice low and rough.

Molly tried not to squeak. "We're looking for John..."

"He's not here." Mr Watson grunted, beginning to close the door on them.

Fortunately Sherlock stuck his foot in the door before the door closed fully.

"Colin, who's at the door?" Mrs Watson's voice was heard coming from inside the house, as was the sound of footsteps.

Molly looked to Sherlock, stricken. She had no idea as what to do. Mr. Watson was dangerous so she didn't want to get him angry but she needed to see John before she left the house. Her best friend was too important to her.

"Nobody." Mr Watson called out to his wife before stepping onto the step and closed the door behind him. This forced Molly and Sherlock to take a step back, and he towered over them, not in height, but presence, crowding into their personal space.. "Now listen to me. John is not here. He went out last night and hasn't come back yet. When he arrives home I will tell him that you called round. But for now I want you to leave. We were just in the middle of a quiet breakfast."

Molly looked at Mr Watson, disbelievingly. "John hasn't come home yet?"

"No."Mr Watson gruffly replied. "I already told you that."

Molly continues to eye him, not quite sure.

"Now excuse me but I have to go." Mr Watson said, walking back into his house and closed the door quickly behind him.

Molly turned to Sherlock, wrinkling her nose.

"He was lying." Sherlock stated simply, walking down the garden path and down the road for a bit before going into an alleyway.

Molly furrowed her brow, "But why?"

"Because John is home but he doesn't want us to see him."

Molly nodded, waiting for a further explanation.

Sherlock carried on walking down the alleyway as he explains "He was getting very aggressive with us which from your reaction shows that he isn't usually that aggressive. As well his knuckles are bruised and cut, recently cut. I think he might have hit John last night when he returned home late last night."

Molly's heart seemed to stutter, "W-what! We have to go see him!" She urged, "We have to go back there, insist-"

Suddenly, Sherlock came to a stop and climbed over a fence.

Molly looked after him, bewildered. "What are you doing!"

"Climbing over a fence. I thought that was obvious." Sherlock shouted from the other side of the fence.

"Why?!"

"To get to John, of course."

"Are we breaking into his house?"

"Theoretically, yes. Well... his garden."

Molly snorted, but hoisted herself over the fence.

"Here, take my hand." Sherlock said, reaching over the fence to help.

Molly took it and pulled herself over, jumping to the ground with grace. "There you go." Sherlock said, moving through the garden towards the house. "I think that John's room is that one, there." He pointed to the window on the second floor, in the left hand corner of the building.

Molly nodded, "Yep, that's the one... how will we get there?"

As a way of answering Molly's question, Sherlock picked up several small stones and started to throw them at the window.

For a moment there is silence, before the window slowly creaks open.

"Get out of here." John hissed from behind the curtains that hung in his window.

"No." Sherlock answered, deciding that he would refuse to move until he found out what happened last night between John and his parents.

"I can hear my parents talking about you downstairs. I don't want anything to happen to you. Go!"

"What can they do to us?" Molly challenged. "Nothing, absolutely nothing, John..."

"They can and they will if they find you out there." John answered, moving the curtain over his face some more.

"John, you either come down here or I will climb up the water pipe so that I can get into your fucking room." Sherlock shouted, preparing to climb up there by taking his shoes off, on by one. He didn't usually curse but he was starting to get really angry.

Molly nodded in approval. "And I'll... I'll join him!" She said hastily. "Come on, John. Let us in!"

"Give me a minute and I'll come down." John sighed, going back into his room to get changed. It looked like he wouldn't be able to get rid of them any other way.

Molly waited, tapping her foot, glancing over at Sherlock every few seconds, who seemed deep in thought.

It didn't take John long to get dressed. The real problem was the black eye and possible broken nose... every other bruise or cut he could cover up with clothes but with them... nothing was possible. In the end, John just decided to go down there as he was, sneaking around his parents when they were in the living room to get into the back garden unnoticed.

Molly was standing with Sherlock, waiting impatiently for him to come down. She was worried as to what meet her when the doors opened. John had not shown his face in the window so there was a possibility that he was hiding something from them but she hoped that it was a scratch or a minor bruise, nothing too serious that she couldn't patch him up herself. She didn't want to see him hurt and/or in pain.

"Hey guys." John called out to them rather quietly as he came out of the house.

Molly felt her jaw drop, and beside her, she sensed Sherlock had tensed as well.

"John!" Both Sherlock and Molly exclaimed at once.

"Shhh...It's nothing. Just please, go. If my parents find you here they will go ballistic." John whispered, hoping that his parents didn't hear them.

"What did they do to you!" Molly exclaimed, horrified, forgetting about keeping her voice down. "No, no, we're definitely not leaving!"

John grabbed Molly's wrist gently and used his other arm to guide Sherlock around to the side of the house. He felt his whole body scream in protest to the erratic movement but he needed to get them out of there. He didn't want them to get hurt as well. "You are. Now!"

"We are not! Sherlock, tell him we aren't going anywhere!"

"We are going... but he's coming with us. He can't stay here any longer." Sherlock replied, grabbing John's arm that was closest to him and pulling him towards the side of the house where there was a small locked gate.

John huffed out a breath as he felt pain all over his body but he ignored it, instead trying to get Sherlock's grip off of him.

Molly nodded, trailing after them, ignoring John's protests. "Really John, you can't stay with them." She berated, "Look at your poor nose!"

"My nose will heal!" John snapped, trying to pull away from Sherlock's strong grasp but he failed miserably. His body no longer wanted to put up with the agonising pain of struggling against Sherlock if it didn't have to so he dug his heels into the ground and refused to move "I'm fine, honestly."

"Your nose is broken. It's not ok. It needs to be put back into place."Sherlock advised, pulling John harder so that he could get him to move. It was obvious that John was in pain so hopefully he would give in soon.

"Well I'll go to the hospital later on when my parents go to work. I don't need to go right this second." John insisted. All he could think about was keeping Sherlock and Molly away from his parents. He had no doubt that if his parents knew that he had told Molly and Sherlock about the abuse, that they too would get hurt.

Molly pushed him on as well, gently but firmly. "Come on, John. You have to, quit arguing."

"I'm not arguing, I am merely stating that I will go the hospital later, like you asked but for now I will stay at home and catch up on my sleep."

"You can sleep at my place. It's not safe for you to stay there!" Molly stated.

John stayed silence, looking at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing ever. He knew deep down that Molly was right but he couldn't bring danger to her doorstep. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe but she was not making it easy for him.

"Please?" Molly pleaded with him, tugging gently at his wrist, "I can't bear this, please, John, please. Let us help you. You can't live like this."

John felt his eyes well up, the emotions that he had been holding back finally coming to the surface. "I... I just... don't understand why he does it... He's never done it to me before... but since...since Harry came out he has been so angry and furious... Mum's not even stopping him and that makes it even worst."

Molly moved forward, offering her his embrace. "It's his fault. He's in the wrong, come here... We'll keep you safe until things blow over."

John let himself be embraced, wrapping his arms around Molly so he could take comfort from her warmth. Sherlock stood there awkwardly, feeling comfortable in both their presences but not comfortable enough to offer support to John in this moment of despair.

"Right... I don't know why I am being all emotional about this... can we just get out of here. We can go to the hospital, quickly to make sure that the damage isn't too bad and then can we go and have some fun." John announced, walking out of the garden gate and through the front garden. The pain was still there but he tried to ignore it as he walked down the road.

Molly kept an arm around him. She knew that her best friend was hurt and she didn't want him to struggle further by being a stubborn git. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

John nodded weakly before he realised that she might not be able to see him nodding his head. "Yeah." He muttered.

"Your ribs, collarbone and shoulder?" Sherlock asked, curiously.

"Yeah." John repeated.

"You really have to go get them checked out." Molly said worriedly, "Come on. Sherlock, could you get us a cab?"

"It would be quicker to walk to the main road and catch the tube to the hospital." Sherlock stated, only becoming aware that John may not be able to make the journey in his condition. "Do you think you can do that John? It's only 1 o'clock so it shouldn't be too busy but I can get a cab if you're in too much pain?"

"No. I think I'm fine but thanks for asking." John replied, starting to walk up the road.

"Are you sure?" Molly asked, not sure that John was being truthful with them "I mean, how bad does it hurt?"

John carried on walking, certain that if he stopped, he might not be able to carry on. "Yep, 100% sure. It killed when I woke up but I took some painkillers so now the pain isn't too bad." He lied effortlessly. If he was asked to rate the pain on a scale of one to ten it was a solid 8.

Molly seemed unsure, glancing over at Sherlock as she clutched onto John's arm.

Sherlock gave Molly a look that said 'don't believe a word he says'. "Just grab onto my arm if you need some support."

"Alright." John muttered, trying to focus all his attention on walking normally.

They continued to walk up the road, Sherlock kept his hand close to John incase he needed any help whilst Molly held onto John with all her might. It took them a good ten minutes to reach the main road but luckily the tube was running late so they didn't need to worry.

John leaned his head on Molly, letting out a breath as they waited. He seemed unsure if he could stand on his own, and relied on their support to remain standing.

Once the tube came they all bustled inside, trying to find three seats that were relatively close to one another so they could talk.

After sitting down, Sherlock said, "I think the nearest hospital is The Royal London hospital so we need to get off in 4 stops at Whitechapel and then we just have to walk for about 5 minute. You might want to think of a good explanation as to what happened, John, because they will ask you about it"

John groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Will it help if I say I got into a fight?"

"That would be a good excuse but then they might call the police."

John sighed. "Then what should I do!" He was too tired, too pained, to come up with something now.

"Say a squirrel attacked you?" Sherlock joked.

John didn't reply, too tired to come up with a witty reply but Molly shot him a withering look, as if to tell him now was not the time for humour.

Then they were all silent for the remainder of the journey, nobody really knowing what to say. When the tube came to a stop, they got off, John holding onto both Molly and Sherlock because the sitting don had made him stiff all over.

Molly bit her lip worriedly. "John..." She whispered. "John, don't. Sherlock, do you think you can lift him?"

"Uhmmm... maybe." So Sherlock stopped in his tracks trying to think of the best way to carry him.

"Not on your back." Molly said, "In your arms?"

John groaned, "This is unnecessary... I just feel a bit stiff." He protested weakly.

"Ok, we can give that a go." Sherlock answered, bending down to grab John's legs whilst putting his arm across John back and holding onto his arm so he could pick him up. He lifted him up easily, much to John's shock and began to walk forward.

Molly followed alongside them. "See? Isn't that much better?"

"No." John sulked. He could feel Sherlock around him, his warmth radiating from his body, hitting John like a tonne of brick at first but gradually, he got used to it.

The smell of his aftershave and clothes, the heat of his body against his own, the feeling of his hand gripping onto John's arm, the sound of his heartbeat, the sight of his long neck. It all mingled together, giving John a sensory overload. It was both comforting and nerve-wracking at the same time as it felt like he was being protected from the world but he also worried about what Sherlock would think of him, needing to be carried and all. But Sherlock's presence around him kept his mind off of the pain which had decreased due to the fact that he was no longer overexerting his body but not completely gone.

Finally after what felt like, forever, they could see the hospital up ahead. It wasn't too far away either so John needed to get his story about what happened sorted out quickly.

"Hallelujah! I hope they have something for broken pride." John muttered, still sulking over being carried. He was meant to be a strong, brave guy, not a complete woos.

"You've got a lot more to fix than your damaged pride. Now hush, and save your strength." Molly stated, walking a bit in front of them so that she could get in there first and inform the reception of John's condition.

When they got into the hospital's emergency department, they were led straight through to a cubicle where John was helped out of his old clothes and into a hospital gown by a nurse. Molly and Sherlock waited in the relatives room while John changed, sitting in silence as they did not know what to say to one another after everything that had happened so far. Both of them felt like they could fall into bed and sleep for a week, though it wasn't even 2 o'clock but the fact that their friend needed them kept them awake.

John gingerly peeled his clothes from his skin, before putting on his gown. It covered a lot less, that was sure, and now his other bruises were more apparent.

The nurse came out to them after 20 minutes, telling them that they had moved John into a private room. They followed the nurse to the room in silence, worry about John filling their minds. John was lying in the centre of a hospital bed, covered up by some blankets with the exception of one of his arms, his neck and his head, all of which were badly bruised.

He gives them a wry smile as they step in, eyes half lidded.

"Hey." Molly said, smiling at John "How are you feeling?"

"Better... the stuff they give here is really good... painkillers at home are nothing."John replied.

"Good." Molly stated before walking over to the side of the bed and plopping herself down on a plastic chair. "Loving your new outfit."

John gave her another smile, 'I know. The blue really brings out my eyes."

"Yeah, it's definitely the blue... But I just like the look of you in a dress." Molly joked.

"I know." John stifled a yawn, "Really accentuates my figure." he turned to Sherlock, "What do you think? Am I a pretty lady?"

Sherlock blushed, unsure of how to answer the question.

John laughed, "I've made the poor boy blush."

"Errrrr..." Sherlock stuttered.

"Just because you're in hospital, Watson, doesn't mean that you can tease my French exchange." Molly warned John.

John gave a short laugh, eyelids drooping, "Sorry, mate..." He tried to focus on Sherlock. "Don't want to get yelled at by Molly now..."

"It's fine. I know. She really is quite scary at times." Sherlock agreed, smiling back at John.

"Oi!"

John chuckles sleepily, "She is..."

They watch as John slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep, worn out from all the walking and the strong drugs that were being pumped into his system.

"Do you fancy a drink... or some food?" Sherlock asked, really fancying a cup of coffee after all the walking... and all the stress. He could last a few more hours without any food though, not that he would be able to find any decent food if he wanted any.

"I don't know... I don't know if I can stomach any, now."

"Ok... well I'm going to go and get myself a cup of coffee from the vending machine. I will be back in a minute."

"Alright."

Sherlock walked down the long corridors in search of a vending machine. It took him a long time but finally he found one. While his coffee was dribbling from the machine into the cup, he placed his head against a wall and let the coolness edge into his body. He hated to see John like that, all covered in bruises, looked like a small defeated animal curled up so that no one could hurt him again. He wasn't sure why he felt this way. Maybe it was how friends felt when their friend was hurt? Molly certainly looked distraught... The machine bleeped, telling him that his coffee was ready so he paid for it and walked back to John's room.

Molly looked up as he returned, "I called my parents, and they are on their way..."

Sherlock closed the door behind him, not wanting to hear all the noise from outside. "That's good. They need to know what happened. Maybe they could find a way to keep John safe?"

"Yes, they will find a way. I have no doubt that that they will. John's like a son to them, just like John is like a brother to me. Should we... should we call the police?"

"It's the right thing to do." Sherlock began, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, "But he will hate you forever if you call them. For some weird reason he is still protecting his parents so he would only deny everything to the police."

"I mean, it's right to protect your parents but if he continues to, they'll just come and get him again. No one will be able to stop it and he'll just go back there. I can't- I can't stand the thought of that!"

Sherlock walked over to Molly, sat in the chair next to her and awkwardly put his arm across her back, pulling her in towards him. "The thing about John is that he's loyal. He barely knew me for a few days and he stood up to his friend because of me so it was obvious that he would never let his parents down. He wants to make them proud and telling the police on them would not do that. I don't know how we could get John to realise that his parents will keep doing this if he doesn't get away from them."

Molly nodded, "I wish I knew how..." She dropped her head on his shoulder. "I hate seeing him like this... trying to be brave... making his jokes. I hate them. I thought they were good people, and then they did this... If I had my way John would never go back. He'd come stay with me. He's practically family anyway. Those awful people don't deserve him."

Sherlock squeezed her tighter as she spoke. "They don't." he agreed, sighing a long sigh.

Molly bit her lip, feeling tears prick at her eyes, "I hate that he's alone, facing that. And he tries so hard to ignore it..."

"He's not alone, he has you."

"I can't be with him in his home."

"No but you can be there for him at school. It's important for him to have friends like you."

"Yes, but I can't protect him-"

"You don't need to protect him. All you need to do is be there for him until he realises that he needs to get away from them."

"But they'll keep hurting him till then, I can't stand by and watch it."

Sherlock's mind was confusing him, telling him to say one thing but then telling him to say another. Of course he didn't want the boy hurt but he knew that there was no other way around it. "I'm sorry but you just have to. Eventually John will give in and let you help him even if his strong sense of pride tells him not to. But you need him to make that decision. You can't force him to do something that he doesn't want to do otherwise he will resent you."

Molly felt the tears make their way down her cheeks, "I can't, I can't see him get hurt like that... I can't say goodbye to him every time knowing he might show up like he did today!"

"I am not very good with crying girls..." Sherlock muttered, wrapping his other arm around her, bringing her into his chest so that she could cry it out. "I don't know what to do. I'm not very good with emotions... and actually liking people. I have no idea what's the best thing to do..."

"What you're doing is fine..." Molly mumbled, burying her face in his chest now, relying on him for comfort.

"Good." Sherlock whispered burying his nose into Molly hair, smelling the strawberry shampoo that she had obviously used to wash her hair two days ago.

Molly didn't know what to do. She felt lost, so lost without her best friend by her side. She had no idea how to look after him, so was so used to it being the other way round...Molly leaned on Sherlock as she thought that he might be able to help her get through this. He seemed to care about John, even though they had only just met. Hopefully he would be the friend that she needed to get her through this and maybe she could be the friends that Sherlock obviously needed too. She leaned on him for what seemed to be an eternity, until she heard a knock on the door

Sherlock's head shot up when he heard the knock, worried that it could be John's parents trying to take him home. He kept his arm firmly around Molly's shoulders, hoping to protect the girl who was starting to feel like a sister to him.

"That would be my parents." Molly sniffed, "I think.."

Thank goodness Sherlock thought as he let go of Molly, knowing that she would want to greet her parents.

Her parents poked their heads around the door before Molly's mother rushed in. Molly leaned on her mother now, arms going around her as she sobs.

"Come on now. We have to be strong for John. He needs us now more than ever." William announced, standing at the door of the room.

"I don't think he's going to tell the police about his parents." Sherlock admitted, looking at William.

William walked into the room some more so that he was standing next to John's bed. "Don't worry, son. Leave it to me."

John cracked an eye open then, surprising them all, "Don't know how you're going to do that, sir..." he rasped, giving them all a small smile.

Molly released her mother now, rushing to his bedside. She grabbed onto his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Mmm... I have my ways."William replied, smiling at John who was now trying to sit up in the bed.

John gave him a half smile, "I don't doubt that, Mr Hooper."

"Oh good. You're awake now." A nurse said as she popped her head around the door. "I'll just go and get a doctor for you."

"Are you alright?" Molly asked John, slightly worried about John because despite the strong pain relief that had to be working on his injuries, he kept wincing each time he moved.

John nodded, giving her a breezy smile, "You know, I've been better, but I'm quite... okay."

"Are you in pain?" Sherlock interrupted.

John shrugged, knowing that Sherlock probably already knew the answer to his question.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Brown. I'm the on-call consultant and will be your doctor for today. I have ordered a chest, face and abdominal x rays to make sure that you haven't got any broken bones and I have ordered a blood test to check that they are no other problems." Doctor Brown said, walking into John's room and stood at the end of his bed, inspecting his notes.

"Why am I in a private room?" John asked.

"We got a call saying that a private room will be paid for you for as long as you stay in this hospital."

Sherlock scoffed, making everyone turn to look at him. "Sorry." Sherlock apoligised, looking down at the floor.

Molly hummed, deciding to break the silence, "So, go on." She urged.

"It looks like he has broken a few ribs, his collar bone and his nose and has possibly dislocated his shoulder. There is a lot of bruising and he will need the cuts on his face stitched up. I just need to get one of my students to take some blood and stitch up those cuts and then a nurse will come and take you for your x rays."The doctor replied, writing something down on John's notes.

John nodded, seeming to take it in, before he asked the question that's really on the tip of his tongue. "How long do I have to stay?"

Just as the doctor was about to speak a nurse came in with a plastic chair in her hand. She handed the doctor a piece of paper, put the chair down beside John's bed and walked back out again without speaking a single word. "I would like it if you stayed in overnight but I have a feeling that you don't feel the same way." Doctor Brown said whilst reading the note.

"What does it say?" Molly asks anxiously, whilst John nods.

"Unfortunately I can't disclose the information, patient confidentially and all. I will have to speak to John alone." Doctor Brown replied, looking at John for an answer.

John nodded. "Yes, alright." He took a deep breath, knowing that whatever the doctor wanted to talk to him about, was going to be bad. "Everyone, please."

They all went out and waited in the corridor, keeping silent incase they could hear what was being said from outside. Of course they couldn't but they all still stayed quiet.

When the doctor finally came out to call them back in, John looked exceedingly pale in his bed, blinking rapidly. They all stumbled in, looking at John with concern.

"John, are you all right?" William asked, sitting down in the plastic chair.

"Yeah..." His voice is quieter than before, his smile even dimmer.

Sherlock chose that moment to snort, inspite of himself.

"Sherlock, shut up." Molly protested, glaring at him intensely.

Sherlock moved a hand over his mouth compliantly, blinking at her innocently, as John gave a faint chuckle.

Just then a young man walked in, pushing a small trolley in front of him. "Hi, I'm Daniel. I'm here to take some blood and stitch up some cuts."

"Yes. Yes. Come in, I'll move out of the way."William said, standing up and walked over to the other side of the bed where everyone else was.

John looked up to him sluggishly, blinking slowly at his arrival.

"What do you want done first: the blood test or the stitches?" Daniel asked, getting straight to the point. He grabbed the plastic chair and moved it closer to John's bed.

"B-Blood test..."

Luckily all the equipment was already laid out on the trolley so all the doctor had to do was perform the procedure. He picked up a tourniquet and tied it around John's upper arm. "Flex and relax your arm a few times." He said as John did what he was told. Then Daniel cleaned the injection site with a small antibacterial wipe, disposing it in a small bin that was sitting on the trolley. "You're not afraid of needles, are you?" Daniel asked, picking up the needle that he was going to use to take the blood.

John shook his head no, he seemed to be fighting for breath still, eyes wide as he watched the doctor.

"It's best if you don't look." Daniel said, despite the fact that John shook his head. He quickly inserted it into the skin, trying to pop it into the vain, which he luckily managed to do first time. Next he attached a low pressure tube to the end of the needle, letting it fill up with blood before removing it and adding another one but this one had a green band on it. "We need to take two samples but I should be much longer." After about a minute he removed the tourniquet and then the needle, pressing a cotton bud to the entry site. "Hold onto his for a few minutes." He said as he prepared to start stitching John's cuts.

John tried not to show his pain, though he winced every so often, a hand resting on his stomach. Molly had rushed forward to help him secure the cotton wool, much like a mother hen.

When the doctor turned his attention back to John, he removed the cotton wool and put a plaster over the entry site. "Now, I need you to turn your head towards me so I can stitch those cuts up for you."

John tried to move his head, letting out a small sound at the apparent pain he feels. He knew everyone's eyes were on him, so he was determined to keep up his brave front for as long as he can.

"We can give you some more painkillers if you're still in pain?" The Dr. asked.

John was about to nod, but he started to coughing, and violently so, doubling over in his bed, face tensing with pain.

The doctor ran out of the door calling for another doctor, before returning and attaching a blood pressure machine to his arm and a oxygen saturation tester to his finger.

John pulled back his fingers, and Molly was horrified to get a glimpse of the bright red liquid staining his fingertips.

"John!"


End file.
